


While These Visions Did Appear

by Hekate1308



Series: Something You Somehow Haven't To Deserve [4]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Endeavour Morse is a Thursday, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 51,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23543863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Everything had been rather wonderful lately, but Captain Endeavour Thursday of the Guard couldn't help the feeling that something was about to go wrong. And he sadly had his experiences when it came to such feelings.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse & Fred Thursday, Endeavour Morse & Sam Thursday, Endeavour Morse & Win Thursday, Peter Jakes & Endeavour Morse
Series: Something You Somehow Haven't To Deserve [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548466
Comments: 64
Kudos: 34





	1. Four Happy Days Bring In Another Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, guys, we are back in this universe! I really hope you have a good day, stay strong and safe, and enjoy!

Fred found Dev in the kitchen, the first one up and already fully dressed, bent over a few papers while tea was making itself on the stove. He was too used to the later to pay much attention to it.

“Good morning, son.”

“Morning, Dad” he replied without looking up. Something important, then.

“What is it?” he asked, grabbing the newspaper.

They had sworn after the spell had been lifted there would be no more secrets in the family, and so Dev replied instantly, “A report on the crime rate among magical users. The Chairman sent it over half an hour ago. I decided it was best dealt with immediately.”

Yes, that was usually the advisable course of action when it came to the Chairman, even if Fred couldn’t help but feel slightly irritated that he expected his boy to be working before breakfast.

He admittedly often felt slightly put out when thinking of the Chairman who, he had to concede, had been nothing if not distantly polite and accommodating when it came to them slowly piercing their life as a family back together. It was just – there was something like wariness there, and something like envy, and something very much like jealousy; but he usually managed not to dwell on it too much, and so far, things seemed to be going well.

“Dad?” he asked and Fred realized he had just been staring at the newspaper headline without reading it.

“Sorry” he said firmly “Gathering wool”. He got up to pour the tea and squeezed Dev’s shoulder on the way for no other reason than he could. “And, what does the report say?”

“Crime rate’s slightly up” he shrugged, “But I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

No, they hadn’t. Not with the Guard running as efficiently as it did, these days. And with Dev heading it, there was little reason to assume that would stop anytime soon.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re already working!” Win stepped into the kitchen, her eyes trained on their oldest, as always these days when she entered a room he happened to be in.

“It’s just a report I need to countersign, Mum. I’ll be done soon.”

“Good”. She ran her fingers through his hair. “You need a good, solid breakfast.”

“Really, Mum, sometimes I swear all you do is try to feed him up” Joan said, sweeping in to hug her brother. “Morning Dev.”

“Hey, Joanie” he replied, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his baby sister, as they always did, as they had done when he had first seen her face.

Fred fought down an unexpected surge of nostalgia. As happy as he was that they had gotten him back, they had still lost fifteen years they should have had.

He met Win’s eyes – she had made Dev promise a while ago that he wouldn’t use his powers to make breakfast every day, so she was busy at the stove – and saw his own thoughts reflected in her eyes.

But there was nothing they could do except concentrate on the here and now – and he couldn’t deny that watching his children (for Sam had joined them in the meantime) laugh together was a rather enchanting picture, even considered everything that had taken place to make it happen.

* * *

“Here. I made a second sandwich for Peter.”

“Thanks Mum.”

“Now be safe out there” she told Dev, pulling him into a hug. It couldn’t _keep_ him safe, as she well knew; magic was fickle and magical criminals as dangerous as non-magical ones; but every morning, she could pretend that all was well as she held him in her arms, as she had done so long ago when the bombs had gone down.

“I’ll try my best, Mum” he told her and she knew it was all she could ask for.

She watched them all leave together – Dev in the driver’s seat, Fred riding shotgun, Joan and Sam sitting in the back.

Her family, complete again after so long, and shortly after they had feared they would lose Dev for good, with him never knowing who he was and that he had a family who loved him.

Ever since he had returned, she’d been asking herself what he must have felt for all these years, but she had never wanted to find out like this.

But all that was over now. Peter had brought him home, none the worse for wear, or at least so her son would have her believe.

She slowly walked into the kitchen, were the breakfast plates were drying. Dev had of course offered to help, as always; and Joan and Sam had followed suit, like they had ever since they were old enough to run after him.

Fifteen years. So many meals Dev had had alone, so many family dinners he _should_ have had attended.

Win sighed. Sometimes, she thought she would always ache for those fifteen years, for watching her son grow up and become the Captain of the Guard, as had been – _would have been_ – their right.

And she usually concluded that train of thought with the rather uncharitable one that she was glad Octavia Stevens was dead and buried in an unmarked grave.

* * *

“Morning, Peter. Here’s your sandwich.”

His best friend had tried to resist Mum’s attempt of feeding him at first, but had (inevitably, Dev thought) surrendered when she had thanked him for the umpteenth time for bringing “my Endeavour back to me”. Well, a little fussing would do him good, with the upbringing he’d had. And he had been family to Dev for years now, anyway.

Which was one of the reasons he wanted to talk to him. “My office?”

He knew something was up immediately, of course.

And so, they walked down the Guard house, occasionally being stopped by one of the members or doing so themselves.

“Well done with the Tuppers case, Sally” he told Lieutenant Ford; he’d signed her finished report late last night and handed it over to Joan to be filed.

She beamed with pride. “Thank you, Captain.”

A promotion might be in order soon, he told himself.

* * *

“So” Peter said, sitting down across from him once they had made themselves tea, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is.”

He blinked. “Good.”

“I mean there is absolutely no indication that anything is wrong.”

“That’s always nice to hear.”

“And yet it seems impossible that there isn’t.”

“Now you’ve lost me.”

He sighed. “I can’t explain. But something about the report the Chairman sent me today…”

“You said the crime rate was slightly up, but otherwise…”

“That’s just it” he said. “For some reason, I can’t get it out of my head.”

Peter took a deep breath, and Dev recognized it as the one he usually did when he was about to say something he thought he might not like. “Dev, don’t get me wrong, but… might it be possible that you are looking for problems because… well, you’re not used to things being… like _this_ now yet?”

He had considered the same possibility. Some days, it was true, he woke up at home and waited, paralysed and terrified, for Sammy to open his eyes and tell him that this was reality, that they had indeed remembered him, that the spell hadn’t reset during the night, that he had now and forever his family back. Especially now, when he so vividly remembered what it was like to actually _be_ Morse and think he had no one. “Could be” he finally quietly admitted.

“Look, I –“ Peter was obviously choosing his words carefully. “It – anyone would be – well – it’s not all roses and happy endings, is it. The difficult part always comes after the curtain falls.”

Yes, it did. The hardest part was never the days _immediately_ after, after you had rescued a child and returned them to their parents, after you arrested a murderer, after you had sent in the report and closed the file; no it came later, when the dust had settled and you had to deal with everything else.

The hardest part was waking up and staring at Sammy. The hardest part was referring to Dad as _sir_ when he was busy or lost in thought and only realizing when he saw the pain in his eyes. The hardest part was wondering how much warmth he could show Mum and Joanie, only to recall that he didn’t have to be careful anymore.

Maybe Peter was right. Maybe he was just looking for a problem because he was, for once, as happy as he believed he ever could be.

“I’ll keep my eyes open, though” he suddenly declared. “Can’t go against my captain’s intuition, can I?”

Dev smiled. Their close relationship meant that they usually knew exactly what they needed to tell each other.

* * *

“Ah. Thursday.”

“Good morning, sir.”

“And, all well at home?”

Ever since the spell had been lifted, the entire station had taken a vivid interest in the Thursday family, and Fred could hardly be surprised at that. It was rather unique to learn that a colleague you had known for years was actually the son of one of your superior officers, and that said superior officer had been as unaware about that situation as you yourself.

Plus, he knew the superintendent’s interest came from genuine care, so he nodded and replied, “Yes. They dropped me off on their way to the Guard”, smiling to himself as he recalled Joan making a dive for the seat next to Dev the second he left it. Not that she had to hurry – Sam preferred the back seat anyway – but it was part of their game.

“Good. Good. Anything new?”

Dev had offered to regularly send reports to Mr. Bright as well, obviously as a courtesy; but he’d declared that it was just as fine by him to get any news he needed from Fred himself as a form of liaison. Plus, Dev and Peter were splitting their time between the Guard and Cowley station anyway. “Not as far as I know, sir.”

“Good. A peaceful day, then.”

Fred would later consider those some form of “famous last words”.

* * *

Hm. A robbery. Another crossroads incident in the night. A banshee believing in the old ways howling in front of the houses of the dying.

All routine stuff, everything handled. Dev’s fingers drummed on the table. Then why, _why_ this feeling that something was going wrong – had already gone wrong? His family was his family, and healthy and happy at that. Peter was constantly at his side, trusting and trusted. The Guard was respected and fulfilled its duties. The Chairman would have let him know if there were any problems in the Council.

If I had ever allowed myself to imagine how _wonderful_ life could be, this is what I would have imagined. _This is what I would someone expect to make me believe if –_

 _Oh for God’s sake_ , he chided himself. _Stop trying to find something suspicious in every saint’s drawer,_ as Dad would say. _And Mum would probably tell you that you have been working too much._

The report he’d read this morning appeared on the table, meaning the Chairman had sent over a copy. He decided to go and give it to Joan personally. His siblings always helped him take his mind off things.

* * *

“Alright, so this goes to –“

“Joanie, I have been working here for a while now too” Sam sighed. “I know where it’s supposed to be.”

She rolled her eyes, “Fine.”

As soon as Sam had turned a corner, she looked at Dev. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re the second person to ask me that today.”

“I assume the first one was Peter?”

He nodded. “I can’t really tell, Joanie. I just have a feeling.”

“Hey” she boxed his shoulder. “You’ll work it out. You’re my big brother.”

They smiled at one another.

Suddenly, the door to the file room flew open and said Peter came in, his face tense. “Dev. I know how it sounds, but… seems that there’s a brawl in Castle Street going on in broad daylight.”


	2. Awake The Pert And Nimble Spirit Of Mirth

“Excuse me, could you repeat that, Sergeant?” Fred asked slowly, staring at Strange. That people were rioting in the streets was the last thing he had expected today, and that was saying something, considering that with his children working for the Guard, he was used to expecting absolutely everything these days.

“There’s a brawl going on, sir, and apparently, a few spells have been flying about too, so the Guard has been informed as well.”

Good. Well then. At least Dev and Peter and the others would be there. “Let’s go then.”

* * *

“Can’t remember the last brawl in Oxford that didn’t have to do with a United match” he mused while Strange drove them there.

Seeing as they already had the evidence that some magic was involved, it couldn’t be ruled out as the cause, but most magic users were fundamentally decent and law-abiding – just like the non-magical parts of Oxford.

“Maybe someone got something wrong, sir, and now no one knows where it began” Strange replied. “It’s been known to happen.”

That would be the best-case scenario, but Fred wasn’t going to trust that it could be as simple as that. As he had painfully learned, things didn’t tend to be simple.

* * *

Dev was very much trying not to think about his hunch earlier in the day and relating it to the fact that there was a bloody _brawl_ going on.

Peter guessed that something was off, as he well knew; he kept shooting him glances but thankfully stayed silent in front of Sally and Mark, who he had chosen to accompany them into the car.

“Any idea of the nature of the spells involved?” he asked, but Sally shook her head.

“No, sir. Many witnesses don’t have magic, so they’re just panicked and have no idea what’s going on.”

Scared people and magic. A bad combination at the best of times.

Alright, no time to worry. He took a deep breath and continued, “Oxford City Police?”

“They will rendezvoused with us at Castle Street, sir. I have been in contact with WPC Trewlove.”

He nodded, knowing well enough that this meant Dad would show up as well. He would never have stayed at the station in a situation like that any way, but knowing he was involved, he would come running.

That had been true when he had been nothing but a bagman in his eyes, but since him learning the truth eight months ago, it was a foregone conclusion.

Sometimes he still couldn’t quite get the past out of his head, as he had shown earlier this morning, but this was not the time to be introspective. “Good.”

* * *

They got lucky for once. By the time Fred, Strange, Trewlove and several constables arrived, the riot was winding down.

Although it was winding down in no fashion that Fred had ever seen.

Normally, things like this stopped because they simply couldn’t go one forever, because people were growing tired, because as much fun as a good fight might be, you had to eventually become sensible again and go home, because that was how things worked.

But this – this was people suddenly blinking and stopping in the middle of punching someone, and then being led to the side by officers of –

“Good morning, Inspector Thursday” one of them said politely. By now, he’d been at the Guard headquarter often enough to remember.

“Second Lieutenant Frakes, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yes, sir.” Before Fred could ask, he added, “Captain Thursday is over there, sir” and pointed him towards his son.

When he reached him – and Peter, of course – Dev turned around. “Dad. Everything’s under control, thank God.”

He wasn’t in the least surprised to see him, but of course he wasn’t. “What happened?”

“We’re not sure” Peter answered. “According to the first statements we’ve been able to compile, people just felt… very resentful and angry all of a sudden.”

“At the others in the street?”

“No” Dev said, “That’s the trouble. Just in general.”

Fred was no stranger to anger – as a matter of fact, Win regularly reminded him when one of the children exploded that it was rather certain they had inherited that trait from him – but this seemed a bit extreme. “Generally angry?”

“Well, about things that anyone would be angry about” Dev explained. “A cheating spouse, an annoying boss, that sort of thing. But we still don’t understand why this led to them just randomly attacking people on the street. Sally is monitoring their emotions as we speak – with their permission, of course.”

Right, Fred remembered, banshees. They could read human emotions if they paid attention. Would be practical for their cases too… Only that Lieutenant Ford would only do so without permission in an emergency.

He’d had a bit of a crash course about all sorts of creatures in the past few months – not that he would have chosen not to, now that he once and for all knew his son, he was determined to learn as much as he could – but he was still a little unclear as to how far some of their powers reached. And as for the Chairman, well… “So I guess you don’t need our help?”

He blinked, taken aback by himself. That had sounded far more hostile than he had wanted, far more hostile than he ever talked to the children. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Just a bit nervous about people fighting on the street, I suspect.”

Dev nodded, looking over to Sally, preoccupied with the case; but Fred could have sworn that Peter studied him for a second, clearly worried.

In the next moment, all his worries were put to the side for the moment by said banshee strolling towards them, looking rather more harried than she usually did. “Sir” she addressed Morse. “Commander. Inspector Thursday.”

“What is it, Sally?”

Fog course Dev had noticed, too; he knew his men (and women) better than even Fred did his at Cowley station.

“It’s – I don’t exactly know how to explain it, sir, but – all these emotions they swore made them fight? There’s not a trace of them _anywhere_.”

**Almost sixteen years ago**

_Dev didn’t know what to make of the Chairman. He was pretty sure what Dad would have said – he would have called him a pompous bastard (not in Mum’s hearing, of course) and the thought made him smile for a moment until he remembered sharply what had happened three weeks ago and the pain ripped through him again, fresh as the day when Joanie had looked at him and called for help because there was a stranger in the house. He pressed his right hand against the key he was carrying around his neck, the key he had sworn to himself he always would keep there until he could go home._

_And certainly, any day now, the Council would come up with a resolution. They_ had _to. They knew magic, didn’t they? That’s why they were on the Council to begin with. And his was just one little spell…_

 _The room he had been given was comfortable, and so far, he had received everything he asked for, be it food or tea or books or even a LP player that he had mentioned off-handedly to James one day just because he’d needed to talk to_ someone _. It had been made clear that it was a loan rather than a gift, but at least it was something, something to help him stop listening to the voices in his head (_ They don’t love you, they never did, not as you loved them or it wouldn’t have worked, but then, why should they care, those people were right, you were never anything but the cuckoo in the nest, if they remembered, they would probably be glad to be rid of you –)

_Other than said James, he had no one he was in regular contact with. The members of the Council seemed to have forgotten that there was someone actually suffering under the spell, since none had bothered to come see him._

_As it turned out, however, he was wrong about that. He was trying to read and very much not remember that around this time, Mum and Joanie and Sammy would have tea, and none of them would realize someone was missing amongst their midst, when a knock rang out. Thinking it was James – the butler had proven every bit as stiff as his first impression had suggested, but he hadn’t been living with Dad’s sometimes rough exterior for years for nothing, and he could tell that he actually quite liked him – he called for him to enter._

_Instead the door was carefully opened and the Chairman came in._

_Dev immediately got up from his seat. It was something that he felt was just appropriate._

_Dad, he well knew, would have told anyone of his age to sit down again and make himself comfortable; the Chairman just accepted the greeting as his due. “Endeavour.”_

_He didn’t quite know how to respond but eventually said, “Good afternoon, Chairman.”_

_He nodded, then strolled over to the window. “I wanted to make sure that you were comfortable.”_

_Dev got the impression that it would be infinitely better for him to be comfortable, and thankfully he could answer quite truthfully, “I am. Thank you.”_

_“James tells me you’ve made yourself quite at home.”_

_Dev didn’t know if he had meant to hurt him, or if this was just a test. But hurt it did., and he saw no reason to deny it. “It’s not. But I’m comfortable all the same.”_

_He turned around at that and studied him for a moment, then nodded again, as if confirming something, if only to himself. “That’s all well, then.”_

_That didn’t sound like something the Chairman would say. Dev might not have much experience with him, but he’d almost sounded like Dad for a moment, and he couldn’t imagine someone normally acting_ less _like Dad._

_“As you know, we have been working on the spell you appear to be the victim of. It’s old magic, and rather dangerous, even for the caster themselves.”_

_Themselves. As if they didn’t know who had done it._

_That woman. That woman with the cold eyes and the dangerous smile, that woman who had wanted him to do bad things to good people just because they had magic and had punished him by taking away everyone he loved when he said no._

_“I have to say, Endeavour” the Chairman said, as calm as always (he wondered if he had any emotions at all. Probably not. He hadn’t had much experience with creatures, but he’d learned enough about them in his magic lessons to know some of them could be quite strange, to humans at least) “The more I learn about your case, the more interesting I think it is.”_

_“I don’t want to be interesting.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud._

_“Ah. A very valuable lesson; most people only realize the worth of boredom when they are much older than you are.”_

_And now he wanted to punch the man (_ was _he a man? Dev wasn’t sure), and if he had had inherited Dad’s temper, he might have; but Mum had taught him to be polite, especially to people of authority. “I’m sure of it”._

_There was a pointed silence at the end of the sentence, one where he could easily have added a “sir” but deliberately had chosen not to do so, and they both knew it._

_Unexpectedly, one of corners of the Chairman’s mouth lifted slightly and Dev understood that he was amused. But genuinely amused or like a predator would be when he saw his prey trying to run, that was the question._

_“Like I said, Endeavour. I would be very much surprised if this wasn’t going to be rather interesting.” He turned to leave. “Also, may I suggest that you… extend your reading a bit. It makes perfect sense that you should be mostly interested in memory spells right now, but there is much more out there worth knowing.”_

_With these words of advice, he left him alone to ponder what purpose his visit had served exactly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this might appear a bit disjointed, but I promise to try and connect all the dots in the end. Thoughts, please? :)


	3. No More Yielding But A Dream

“What do you mean?“ Dev asked, frowning.

“Perhaps I should say” she corrected herself, “That the emotions are not nearly strong enough to cause all of this”. With a wave, she indicated the injuries that had occurred – so far Fred had seen a few broken noses and quite a bit of bruising. “For example, yes, Mrs. Fairchild over there does feel some resentment that her husband cheated on her – who wouldn’t – but I would actually claim that she has handled those feelings remarkably well.”

“Ahm” Fred began.

“Until now” she added when she saw his expression.

“Something amplified their feelings, then” Peter suggested. “Has to be.”

“It would seem so, sir.”

“But what could possibly do this… and why?” Dev asked.

“Prank gone wrong?” Fred asked. Just because Dev had always been careful with his magic, didn’t mean that others were. Amend there were always a few bad apples around.

“Hell of a prank” Peter said, fishing for a cigarette, then realizing he wasn’t carrying any because he was currently quitting due to a promise to Dev. “But means that they would have been watching…” he trailed off as he became aware of the age-old rule that, whoever a brawl happened to take place, people _would_ stop and watch, even in such a distinguished place as Oxford.

And of course whoever was responsible had had more than enough time to leave when the Guard showed up.

“Reconnaissance spell?” Peter asked, but Dev shook his head.

“We don’t know what or who to look for. We could try, but it might be dangerous, and as long as we don’t have a clue what’s going on, I’m unwilling to risk it.”

It seemed that Win’s lectures – well, if you could call her gentle suggestions of _please to take things slowly and look after yourself, dear_ lectures – were slowly but surely working. Peter seemed to agree, for he looked downright ecstatic.

“Betters take statements of everyone involved” Dev decided. “They might give us a clue.”

That, Fred decided, was much preferable to a spell when they didn’t even know what they were looking for.

* * *

Really, day-to-day Guard work, he had quickly realized during their first case together, when he had not yet remembered, was not that different from regular police work. Just add a bit of magic and madness, and it was the same.

They had offered to help, and since magical and non-magical people had been affected, Dev had decided that they would handle the later as to not make them nervous.

“Oh” Mrs. Fairchild, a woman in her forties looking as normal as they came, said when he introduced himself. “I must have misunderstood. I thought the – Captain? – he was the one called Thursday.”

“He is, ma’am. Our oldest.”

“Oh” she repeated, then glanced at Dev and probably searched for a resemblance that, due to Connie’s colouring, was not easy to find. “You must be very proud.”

“Indeed we are” he replied, despite that being unnecessary, since, judging from WPC Trewlove’s smile, he was probably, as Joan had one day memorably put it, “shining like a beacon” with pride.

“I don’t – I don’t know much about magic, I am afraid, never really dealt with it before… So I can’t tell you if anything magical happened here” she said in a very quiet voice for a woman who had admitted to kneeing one man in the groin and using her handbag to give another a black eye.

“Maybe not, Mrs. Fairchild, but I think we can agree that something unusual happened here, wouldn’t you say?”

She nodded. “I – I was going to the grocery store, as usual at this time of the week, really, and I wasn’t even thinking about David and Mrs. – well, that doesn’t matter, it’s all over and done now, and we’ve been patching things up – but suddenly it was all I could dwell on and I got so angry and I just wanted, no, needed to let it out –“

Yes, something unusual had happened, alright. Fred had his experiences, and when women got really angry about their philandering husbands, they tended to punch said husbands, not strangers on the street. “I see. And did you notice anything – strange before that?”

She shook her head. “No. I swear it. I don’t understand. And really, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt the gentlemen –“ She blushed scarlet as she recalled how the harm had been done. “I am not like this, not like this at all.”

No, Fred knew, she wasn’t. He had met enough women like her. They lived their quiet lives, usually content, and if something happened like what had with David and Mrs. Whoever, they never thought of leaving; no, they stayed and patched things up because that was The Thing One Did, and that was it.

He hoped Dev was having more success.

* * *

“Alright, Mr. Cranmer, you’ve been a big help” Dev said. “Thank you for your time.”

The man, who owned a shop a street down and was shaking all over because he had been convinced he would be arrested, thanked them profusely for letting him go and all but disappeared in a cloud.

“What a wet sponge” Peter muttered.

“Peter” he admonished him, well aware that the effect would be ruined by his own amusement.

And indeed, Peter didn’t seem chastened in the least. “Come on, you were thinking the same. No way that guy would hit another man without outside influences”.

“You’re right” he agreed. Mr. Cranmer was the kind of man who, when being bullied, would be the one go apologize to the bully. Hardly someone who would suddenly punch someone…

But wait… being bullied caused resentment, didn’t it? And he’d said he’d suddenly been thinking of a client last week who had been incredibly impolite…

Resentment, nagger… And Peter being right about something amplifying those feelings…

“Just share it with the class when you’ve thought things through, right?” his best friend said, sounding rather amused.

“Sorry. Lost in thought.”

Peter raised an unimpressed eyebrow to show that he was well aware Dev was lost in thought most of the time, and turned to their next witness.

**A dream**

**That afternoon, Win was watching Joan and Sam doing some colouring when she suddenly felt a spell of dizziness, but it was gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure she’d even felt it.**

**_Something passed us by_ ** **, she thought for no apparent reason, _something nasty, but we were spared._ She didn’t understand why, but Joan and Sam seemed alright, and everything appeared to be on order. **

**Dev came back home from his meeting with his friends a little while later and happily swept into the living room to play with the kiddies.**

**Win heard their laughter as she made tea and smiled. She knew many families where the older siblings weren’t too keen on spending time with the younger ones, especially if the age gap was as large as it was with them, but qualms like this had never beset their boy.**

**As they had their tea, he had to tell Joanie and Sam all about the movie they had watched – they would hardly have been allowed in, seeing as they were still too young – and he obliged with another one of those happy smiles Win had loved since he was a boy.**

**She had never quite admitted to Fred how terrified she had been, in the beginning; of not loving him enough, of making him think she didn’t want him, like he was not really part of their family. But as time went on – as he fell asleep in her arms, took his first steps towards, proudly showed off his pictures to her – Win had quickly realized that all her fears had been unfounded. She couldn’t have loved him more than she already did, even if she had given birth to him herself.**

**She couldn’t imagine what life would have been like if she hadn’t taken him in as her son, and she didn’t want to.**

**_It almost happened today,_ ** **something in her whispered once more, _it almost happened today_. **

**“What is it, Mum?” Dev suddenly asked and she realized she’d grasped his hand, the wave of terror she had just felt leaving her shaken.**

**Deciding quickly that she didn’t want to burden him, she said, “I’m so proud of you.”**

**His eyes softened. “I know, Mum.”**

**“I mean – best marks and a scholarship” she beamed.**

**He bowed his head in modesty. “Really, Mum” he mumbled in that self-conscious voice teenagers used when they thought their parents were overdoing it.**

**She smiled and kissed his forehead – another “Really, Mum!” – and went to fetch them some more biscuits.**

* * *

**A few days later, her and Dev had gone shopping since she insisted on getting him a new suit for university, despite his protests. “I am sure I can wear –“**

**“We want you to look like a proper young gentleman, dear.”**

**“Yes, Mum” he sighed, but smiled eventually, and she knew all was well.**

**Something was odd, however.**

**While browsing, she happened to glance out the shop window; and just for a moment, she could have sworn she saw the woman who had come to see Dev and wanted to recruit him. She couldn’t say how glad she was that their boy’s first impression was to refuse. Not that she would have expected anything different.**

**The woman was studying her with such a look of fury that Win’s blood ran cold, but then she blinked and she was gone.**

**“Everything alright, Mum?” Dev asked and she told herself she would have to stop acting so jumpy or he’d think he’d done something wrong.**

**“Yes, thank you. Now what do you think of this shirt…”**

**It didn’t matter, she told herself firmly.**

**Dev had said no, and was set to do what he had always wanted to do - study law enforcement, then follow his father into the police. She approved whole-heartedly, although she already knew that she would worry about him just as much as she did about Fred whenever he left the house to make the city a safer place.**

* * *

**Dev began his studies with enthusiasm, looking bright-eyed and eager as he left the house in his new suit on a bright September morning. She'd fixed his collar - he hadn't even protested - and made him a sandwich, drawing him into a tight hug.**

**"I'll be back for dinner, Mum" he reminded her, and she drew back with a smile.**

**"I know that, dear, I am just very proud."**

**"We all are" Fred boomed, clasping his shoulder. "First Thursday to go to college, and on a scholarship! Should've seen the faces of my colleagues when I told them your marks, son."**

**“Thank you, Dad" he said with a flush of pleasure.**

**When Win turned her head, though, she saw Joan and Sam lurking around, looking rather downcast.**

**Dev noticed it too, of course. "What is it, Joanie?" he asked, leaning down so he could look her straight ion the eyes.**

**"Mum said something about you making new friends" she said quietly, with Sam nodding solemnly beside her.**

**"Well yes" he brightened up "And if they are very nice, I can take them home to meet you!"**

**It was the wrong thing to say, because she looked away, her expression suggesting that she wouldn’t relish a meeting. Win didn’t understand until she asked, "But we'll always be your _best_ friends, right?"**

**"But of course!" he exclaimed. "No matter what happens, can't eat going to the park with you two!"**

**"Or singing" Joanie said.**

**"Yes, or singing" he immediately amended,**

**Joan looked at him, then tightly hugged his hips, and he quickly went down on his knees to turn it into a proper embrace that Sam soon joined.**

**Win cleared her throat and discreetly wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. The children were so close... Had been ever since Joan had been born.**

**And she knew, felt, that despite the age difference and that many other people in the same situation would have been lying, Dev spoke the truth. No matter what happened, they always _would_ be best friends.**

**And so she watched their first born leave with his father, who had promised to drop him off at college, and went back into the kitchen humming to herself.**


	4. But They Do Square

As far as magical incidents went, Fred reflected as he strolled back to his office at the station, this hadn’t gone too bad. Yes, a few broken noses and perhaps some hurt pride, but that was hardly awful compared to what magic could do if someone set their mind to causing serios harm.

Still, it was a bit strange.

Speaking of –

“Sir, why do you think someone would do something like this? Doesn’t seem to do anyone any good, making folks fight like that.”

“Maybe someone needed a distraction?” Trewlove suggested. “After all, magical criminals are on the run just like non-magical ones.”

That was true, and with Dev as the Captain, they better run fast.

Fred went to inform Superintendent Bright.

* * *

“Someone causing riots by magic in Oxford?” Bright asked, lighting a cigarette.

“Hardly a riot, sir, more of a brawl you’d get after a bad Oxford United Match at a pub” he answered while filling his pipe, thinking that his earlier simile was rather fitting.

“If you say so”.

Hm. The superintendent appeared to be in a bad mood today, but that, Fred could handle. He’d had much more unpleasant superior officers over the years, and thankfully, Mr. Bright was fundamentally decent. “Dev’s looking into it. He’s at the headquarters now, with Pe – Commander Jakes.”

“I see” Bright said courtly and Fred decided he might as well cut this visit short. “I assume” he suddenly added, however, “That your son will keep you informed?”

“Of course, sir. Since magical and non-magical people are involved, it’s a joint case”.

“Good, good. Keep my appraised, then” he dismissed him, sounding rather annoyed.

Ah well. Fred figured he’d just stay out of his way. This would blow over, too.

* * *

Dev was going through one of his spell books. He had collected his fair share of information over the years, and had taken care to write down most of it; the trouble was that nothing really seemed to fit. Spells that caused anger and fury usually targeted a specific individual, which clearly had not been the case; and more than that, whatever had caused the brawl had obviously been used not to conjure up fake emotions, but to strengthen any remaining anger that the people had been feeling, however small. And it had been gone as quickly as it came.

It didn’t make much sense, but then, things rarely did in the beginning when it came to magical cases.

A knock on his door. Sam entered. “Hey Dev, some forms you have to countersign. Just came in from the Council.”

Most members preferred to have papers delivered by messenger, rather than the Chairman’s more direct approach, so he wasn’t surprised. “Thanks Sammy.”

“What’s this I hear about a riot?”

He told him because he would have done anyway.

He whistled. “Wow. Think this is going to spread?”

“I hope not; so far there have been no more cases, so that’s something. Magic tends to act quickly.”

He nodded. “Lunch later?”

“Sure, I’ll pick you and Joan up.”

He grinned. “See you then, Devy.”

When he left the office, Sally came in. Her smile made it rather obvious she had heard his last words, but she’d never been ojne to tell tales, and anyway, well-meant gossip was always better than the more vicious sort. “Everyone has been interviewed, sir, and no one shows any traces of a spell left.”

“That’s probably for the best.” For the people, at least. Not so much for their case.

“Also…” she hesitated. “I’m sorry sir, but I have been checking on the emotions of every Guard member who was at the crime scene, except for you and Commander Jakes, and I was wondering…”

“An excellent idea, Sally. Go ahead.” He really should have thought of it himself, he decided as he held out his hands to her, palms up. It was easier for her to read emotions if she could touch the person.

She did a quick reading and sighed. “Nothing. I’ll do Commander Jakes too, as soon as possible, but I highly doubt I’ll find anything…” She hesitated. Dev knew that expression on her face well enough; she’d been mulling something over and didn’t know whether to ask.

“What is it, Sally?” he asked kindly.

“It’s – oh do forgive me, sir, but you know, sir, when Mnemosyne used her powers on you, sir…”

He nodded to let her know he did, in fact, recall the experience, and quite well at that.

“I – I read your emotions one night, sir. Sorry, sir. I couldn’t help it.”

“Of course” he said. He’d been touched upon learning how worried the entire Guard had been for him, really.

“And then I – well, I did it again once you remembered, sir. Should have asked your permission, dir.”

Excessive use of the word sir was always proof that she was nervous.

“Understandable.”

It was. If she had asked, he would have allowed it without hesitation.

She relaxed slightly. “It’s just that – I noticed – well, sir… There’s so little of it.”

“Of what?” he asked.

“I – your family forgot you existed, sir” she said bluntly. “Fort fifteen years. And now that you’ve returned to them, there’s so very little resentment or anger against them. And that would just be… normal, for humans and creatures alike.”

“I know”. He was silent for a moment, contemplating whether he should answer; but Sally had earned it. “I – I was angry at them. At the beginning. And yes, those three years where I saw them almost daily broke my heart over and over. But – I realized early on – if I let anger cloud everything, if I let it out on them… the Army would have won after all. The bitterness they wanted me to feel would have triumphed. And I couldn’t allow that.”

Then silence that followed was heavy. “Plus” he then said, “You wouldn’t want to give up eating my mother’s cooking, I assure you.”

She smiled. “I am glad to hear it, sir.”

He nodded and she left as he concentrated back on the file.

**Eight months ago**

_It wasn’t a fairy-tale. Of course it wasn’t, despite his (as he had well been aware) unrealistic hopes and dreams._

_It was easy to imagine a happy ending while one was working towards one; but afterwards…_

_Afterwards._

_He’d been a Thursday again for about a week and was the first one up, which was not surprising because he’d never been in bed. He and Peter had been hunting a wild basilisk – thankfully, they’d managed to catch it at dawn; and he was brewing a cup of tea and looking very much forward to a quick nap before going into work, although he didn’t yet know where he would go, Cowley station or headquarters…_

_He blinked, realizing he’d been about to doze off sitting up, his head cradled in his right hand._

_“Hey, Dev. Did you get them?”_

_He looked at the young woman who had just entered the kitchen and automatically said, “Yes, thank you, Miss Thursday.”_

_She stared at him, then swallowed. “Devy?”_

_He shook his head. “Sorry, Joanie.”_

_“You look exhausted.”_

_“That would be because I am” he replied, honestly, just as the kettle sang; he was about to get up when she intervened._

_“You stay seated, mister, Mum would never let me hear the end of it.”_

_She quickly made them tea. By the time she sat down his cup in front of him, he had achieved something like consciousness again. “Thanks, Joanie.”_

_She sat down next to him, close enough that he could feel her comforting body heat. “Dev…” she hesitated._

_“What is it?” he asked immediately._

_“You’re tired.”_

_He shrugged. “Have been often enough, will be again.”_

_She smiled, then grew serious again. “Like when we were kids, eh? You looking out for me?”_

_“Something like that” he replied._

_She took his hand, stared at their intertwined palms. “Do you remember when that boy told me you weren’t part of our family?”_

_The non-sequitur took him by surprise, but he was still alert enough to recall. “You punched him and Dad tried to scold you, but it was somewhat ruined by the smile on his face, if I remember correctly.”_

_She nodded. “And what came… after?”_

_“Oh. You mean when I told you…”_

_She nodded, tears in her eyes. “And I told you that you’d always be my favouritest brother. I am so sorry.”_

_“It’s not your fault, Joanie. Or mine. It was theirs.”_

_“Still…” she said quietly. “I wish with all my heart that I could have kept that prose.”_

_“I know, Joanie, I know.”_

_She smiled at him, then wiped away the tears in her eyes before pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at his own cheek._

_He hadn’t even realized he’d started to cry._

_“Come on. You need to go to bed.”_

_She left him to rest with a kiss on his forehead, like Mum would have done; and he wasn’t in the least surprised to find that, when he woke up, it was well past lunchtime, Mum insisting that he have a meal before he went to work._

* * *

_Dev couldn’t deny that he was a little nervous. He, Mum, Dad and Joanie had slowly gotten used to their new normal which, try as they might, could not be the old normal but seemed to promise something very nice indeed; but Sammy, despite the constant phone calls and letters, had yet to see him as his older brother since he had returned to Oxford._

_“It’ll be fine, sweetheart” Mum said suddenly and he smiled at her as they waited on the train platform._

_“Oy” Dad confirmed. “Thick as thieves, you always were. There were times when only a word from you could keep him under control.”_

_That_ had _been true, when they were children, he reflected; but what about now?_

_Joan took his arm and squeezed it. “He’s been talking about coming home nonstop., You don’t have to worry.”_

_And yet, when Sam’s train came in, he had to take a deep breath._

_Sam spotted them before they found him, and walked up to them, staring at Dev with wide eyes. That was how it had always been – Joan screamed and yelled and raged, much like Dad; Sam took his time and then reacted to people._

_Dev swallowed._

_Then, suddenly, Sam pulled him into his arms. “Dev._ Bloody hell _, Dev.”_

_“I know” he managed to say, “I know.”_

_He pulled back and have him a half-grin., “Glad you’re back.”_

_“Same to you” he said, his throat tight._

_They stared at one another until Joan cleared her throat. “Ahm, Sam, now that you have made it very clear who your favourite sibling is, would you terribly mind no longer ignoring us?”_

_He chuckled. “Sorry, Joan”._

_And somehow, that was the moment that Dev knew all would be well._

* * *

_They had been sharing a room since Sam was born, and of course Dev had lived with Peter in London for quite a while, and yet that night, everything felt rather new._

_“You should have seen my sprint to the phone” Sam began quietly when they were in bed. “I think Tommy Hansen still believes I am a little weird.”_

_“You get used to it.”_

_A pause._

_Then, “I’m so sorry. I should never have forgotten you –“_

_“It was the spell, Sammy –“_

_“I don’t care! You don’t just forget your big brother!”_

_“Magic doesn’t work like that” he sighed. He should know. He had spent years trying to reverse Octavia Stevens’ curse._

_“Still. I can’t imagine – “ Sam broke off, then continued, “I’m so bloody glad I remembered.”_

_“I can say the same.”_

_“Oh Dev.”_

_Another pause._

_Dev was starting to wonder if this was how it would be from now on when Sam suddenly began, “And now tell me about the Guard. I know you’re the boss, and that Peter Jakes is your second-in-command, but tell me about the cases!”_

_Just like when they had been children and Sam had asked – demanded – that he entertain him with his magic tricks._

_Dev smiled into the darkness and began to speak._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The anecdote that a boy in school tried to tell Joan that Dev wasn't really her brother comes from Rusty Cage by imaginationtherapy - really, check it out, it's amazing!  
> Also really hope you are enjoying this!


	5. Art Though Bragging To The Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!!!

Peter got dragged along with the Thursdays to have their sandwiches at the pub. That had been happening more and more often lately, especially since he’d travelled into Dev’s mind to get him back.

He couldn’t bring himself to mind it even the least bit. He’d always wished for a family, ever since he’d been a small chap, and this was the closest he’d ever gotten to having one so far.

“What gets me is how random this is” Joan said while unpacking her lunch. “I mean, make people fight just for the sake of it? What would be the point?”

“Maybe” Dev said suddenly, staring into the distance, “It was just to prove that they _could_.”

He was prone to get lost in his head at times like these, as Peter well knew, so he still nudged him. “You should be eating that” he said, nodding towards the sandwich in his hands, “Or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Joan giggled. “Well done, Peter; you’re learning.”

Dev looked somewhat sheepish as he complied.

* * *

There was a pub somewhat at a half distance between the station and the headquarters, and Fred knew the children often ate their lunch there, mostly because it was frequented by magic users and non-magic users alike. And so that was where he decided to go. It wasn’t that they were very insistent on having family lunch as often as possible; but whenever Fred remembered those fifteen years where he hadn’t even known a child of his was missing, he couldn’t help but wish to have as much time as he could with him. Joan and Sam seemed to feel the same, and of course Win’s eyes would inevitably follow Dev whenever they wee in the same room.

He did indeed find the children at the pub – all of them, as he and Win had come to jokingly refer to the group when it included Peter. Indeed, he looked as comfortable as the rest of them, even now laughing at something Sam had said. Dev was apparently content to just listen and eat his sandwich, while Joan now and then nudged him good-naturedly.

Fred smiled. They might always mourn those years, but in many ways, they had been blessed. “Hello” he greeted them, stepping up to the table.

A chorus of “Hey Dad!” and “Hello, Inspector” followed.

“Anything new?” he asked, pulling out his sandwich.

Dev shook his head. “No. So far, we have nothing to go on. Sally’s still sorting through the emotions she read, but other than that…”

“And it wasn’t as if it was a catastrophe or something like that” Joan said. “I mean, I’m not saying I am for people hitting each other on the stet, but compared to what we know magic can do…”

Very shortly after Dev had returned to them, Fred had resigned himself to the fact that the hat stand rule was a thing of the past. He simply couldn’t keep silent when Joan (and later Sam) asked questions, and Fred didn’t have the heart to ask them to stop, not when Dev beamed whenever his siblings acknowledged him.

Really, sometimes Fred wondered. Ever since he had come back, he had never shown any anger, any annoyance at being forgotten, at having to live through over a decade of his family not knowing who he was. Instead, there was joy and his obvious affection for them all. And in all their night talks, he had never let shown any indication that he had blamed them.

Fred didn’t know if he’d had the strength to keep that for so long. He didn’t know if he could have looked his father in the eyes after all this time. Fred blamed himself, and he knew so did Win. The guilt that a simple spell had made them forget their child would always sit with them. And yet here he was, as if he’d never left.

“Dad? You alright?”

“Yes, sorry. I was miles away, I am afraid”.

“Not like there’s much for us to do” Dev said. “It might also have simply been a magical fluke – power leaking out and doing things…”

But Fred knew him better than that. Dev suspected more, and so did Peter, if only because of him.

Where his captain led, he well knew, Peter would follow.

Right now, there was little reason to be worried though. They had, each other after all, the police was working alongside the Guard, and everything seemed to have calmed down.

Yes, this might have been a mystery, but there was none they couldn’t solve as long as they held together.

“Ah, Captain Thursday, Commander Jakes, Ensigns Thursday and Inspector Thursday! Might I offer you a drink on the house?”

Dev grinned at the dragon bartender. “That depends. Are you trying to bribe the Guard or the police, George?”

“That depends. What are you offering?”

“Well, I could arrest you, and everyone I’ve put in one of our cells has assured me they are quite comfortable.”

“Nah, in that case, I’ll pass. Anyway” the dragon in his sixties winked at Joan, the well-meant, friendly wink of an older man who liked to see a pretty girl “Maybe I have ulterior motives.”

“Good luck with that” she said. “Almost my entire family works in law enforcement, remember?”

“And you have another one” he nodded towards Peter.

“Oh, I already included him, don’t worry´.”

Peter had to look away, but it made both Dev and Fred smile.

* * *

Sally was troubled. She didn’t often read emotions since she considered it highly invasive – she’d been lucky that the captain had been so understand, really – but she did have some experience, and it shouldn’t have been so fast. Yes, many were quick to anger, but even a flash of it wouldn’t be gone like this – as if it had never been…

Only, it had been, hadn’t it? It still was. It was just anger simmering away beneath the surface, so deeply buried that the people probably didn’t even realized they were still angry.

She bit her lip. She had a bad feeling about this.

**A dream**

**Neither of them was surprised when Dev turned out to excel at his studies, or that he found college life pleasant in general. To Win’s delight, Joan and Sam soon forgot all their fears since their brother made it his mission to ensure he spent as much time with them as possible; and she was always more than glad to see her oldest come home for dinner.**

**One evening, though, he proved rather subdued. She could have asked, but had the impression that Fred might have better chances, so she raised an eyebrow at her husband. He immediately took the hint and nodded slightly.**

* * *

**It wasn’t one of their late night talks, the ones Win pretended she didn’t know about; instead it was an after-dinner drink that brought out the truth.**

**When Fred came into their bedroom, he looked somewhat sad but not too worried; she still marked the page of her book and laid it aside. “What happened?”**

**“A hostile don, that happened. Lecture about magic and law, focusing mostly on the damage people with magic can do.”**

**“Oh Fred. And he’s always been so careful…”**

**“I know. Sometimes I wonder if we’d ever found out at all, if he hadn’t been so intent on sharing everything with his siblings.”**

**Win smiled as she remembered the countless hours Dev had spent entertaining them with his powers. Damage indeed. She huffed. “Well, our Dev won’t be disheartened by one don.”**

**“No, he won’t, we don’t have to worry about that. And he still wants to go to the police, after all; might break a few stereotypes to have an officer with powers.”**

**While Fred was always careful to point out that there were many other options open to their oldest, Win knew just how proud he was that he seemed bent to follow in his footsteps, just like she was.**

* * *

**The next morning, she bakes a cake. Dev was surprised when he came downstairs. “Is it Sunday?”**

**“No, I just thought you deserved a treat.”**

**“Ah. So Dad told you.”**

**“Of course he did, sweetheart.”**

**Dev sighed as he sat down, Win having waved away his offer of help. “I overreacted.”**

**“You didn’t. Never liked people who judged others based on things they have no control over” she said, taking out the plates and accidentally dropping one –**

**Well, almost. Dev, with his quick sight and thinking, had murmured a spell and it now hung about her knee. “Thanks” she said, picking it up. “See? Can’t understand what’s so terrifying about that.”**

**“Oh, I do” he said honestly. “We learned things in magic school…” he shuddered. “There was a reason some people burned.”**

**“Never with you, Dev, I know that”. She ran her fingers through his hair as she had been wont to do when he’d been a little boy. “Nothing to fear there.”**

**He smiled at her.**

**It was a good morning, especially when Fred and the kiddies joined them.**

* * *

**Eventually, Dev fulfilled his promise and brought some of his friends over, although Win wasn’t certain that in some cases, friends was the right word.**

**She had nothing against Anthony. He might have been part of the aristocracy, but he certainly didn’t show it. And he seemed to eb genuinely fond of Dev, which was a sure way to Win’s heart.**

**Bruce Belborough was a very different kind, however. After dinner with him and Tony, Dev brought them to the door, came back and sighed. “Sorry. Had to bring Bruce too.”**

**“I don’t like him” Joan said with her usual frankness. “Why did act like he was better than you?!”**

**Of course. Joan’s logic – her big brother was the best person in the entire world, and anyone who didn’t say that at a glance was clearly inferior – never failed.**

**“That’s Bruce for you, Joanie” he shrugged. “Some people are like that.”**

**He’d even been slightly disrespectful to Fred, but they wouldn’t mention it, not when it would clearly make Dev uncomfortable.**

**“Like Tony” Sam suddenly chimed in. “He played cars with me.”**

**“Tony and his cars” Dev ruffled his hair. “Just couldn’t cope with you having so many great ones.”**

**“Yeah!” Sam then demanded they go play, and of course Dev immediately obliged.**

**“I will say, at least Dev seems pretty immune to bad influences” Fred said dryly. “That Belborough boy could do with a good –“**

**“Fred” she interrupted him gently, fully knowing that he didn’t really mean it. He had never raised a hand against their children, not that she would have allowed it.**

**“A good talking to, that’s what I wanted to say” he immediately corrected himself. “Ah well; Dev knows who his real friends are.”**

**That he did. Over time, Win grew rather fond of Jerome, who he brought over soon after; his secret wasn’t hard to guess, but that might be why he had been drawn to Dev sin the first place; he’d never deliberately tried to hide his magical abilities, not since she and Fred had found out, anyway.**

**All in all, she couldn’t help but watch fondly and proudly as Dev continued to make his way into the world.**

* * *

**“Mum, have you seen my textbook on civil law?”**

**“In the living room” she called out. “You left it there yesterday when I sent you to bed.”**

**Really, sometimes he got lost in his head, but as long as they were there to help him out of it, everything would be alright.**

* * *

**The years flew by, and soon the first Thursday to attend college became the first Thursday to graduate.**

**If Fred grew any prouder, his chest would burst, Win was sure, but she couldn’t help but think the same about herself.**

**“Mum” he sighed as she tried to get his hair under control before the ceremony.**

**“Now, now, Dev, you want to look every bit as handsome as you are, don’t you?”**

**The children sniggered, but Dev’s smile told her he didn’t mind.**

**And, if Win had to grab a handkerchief during the ceremony, Fred was tactful enough not to mention it.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!


	6. Am I Not Thy Lord

The next few days proved to be quiet; it was almost as if the brawl had never happened. Certainly, those who had been involved and were contacted by the Guard claimed they would only too happily forget it had ever taken place, but Dev didn’t have that luxury. He was the Captain, it was his duty to solve this case, even if there didn’t seem to be much of one. He knew Sally Ford was more worried than she’d let on, and the banshee had always had good instincts.

Still…

“Peter” he said on the first Thursday afternoon after the riot as they were going through the paperwork, “Tell me I’m seeing things.”

“You are always seeing things, because those things are usually there, because that’s how magic works” he pointed out correctly.

He sighed. “I hate it when you’re the sensible one.”

“So… all the time?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t been injured or hexed in a few months, now.”

“Amazing” he deadpanned.

Dev grinned at him, but looked down at the files as he remembered why he had insisted Peter go through with them in the first place. It had been a while since they had talked about… things; and he didn’t want his best friend to think that he was neglecting him because, for the first time in a long time, he was actually completely and utterly happy and content. And of course… “Peter…”

“Oh oh. I know that tone.”

Peter had been rather cheerful as of late, but that was only more reason to speak to him – Dev knew well enough that he sometimes overcompensated.

“I was just wondering… you haven’t had any… well, dreams or bad nights lately, have you?” After all, during the brawl, bad feelings, resentment, anger, and God knew what else, had been amplified, and when it came to that…

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t just demand that the two highest-ranking Guard officers sign papers together” he replied. “But no, Dev. Whatever happened, it has had no effect on me so far. And for what it’s worth… I’ve had a great many good days lately.”

“You deserve them” he said firmly.

“I am starting to see that. But then, so do you, don’t you?”

They traded smiles.

“I might take up what happened with the Chairman” Dev then said. “he might have a clue.”

“Better you than me.”

* * *

And so, that afternoon, he walked down the by-now familiar corridors of the Council Building. Those he met knew better than to ask what he was doing there.

The Chairman was in, thankfully. “Ah. Endeavour. Please, take a seat.”

Dev knew of the whispers, especially among the Council members themselves. While most of them respected him, if only for the work he’d done, there were a few who felt the Chairman was singling him out to much. He’d always thought personally – although dispassionately, as a simple fact – that he wanted to keep track of his investment. “Chairman.”

“Any news on the… event that took place three days ago?”

Dev had of course sent in a report; it would have been foolish at best and dangerous at worst not to do so. He too listened to whispers sometimes, and they had told him long ago how the Chairman dealt with those he felt endangered his position. “We are working on it. Lieutenant Ford has been a great help by reading the witnesses’ emotions; however, so far no solutions has presented itself. As a matter of fact, Chairman, I am here to ask your opinion.”

His expression clearly stated that he had understood as much as soon as Dev had knocked, but he would have been surprised if that hadn’t been the case. He’d always been several steps ahead of him, ever since he’d offered a terrified boy a job. Dev liked to think he’d grown to like him somewhat over the years, but you never knew.

“It is certainly an unusual case. Emotions, especially human ones, are fickle; to try magic to manipulate them is highly difficult.”

“Octavia Stevens managed when it came to me” he said quietly but firmly. Pretending it hadn’t happened would lead to nothing.

Something flashed in the Chairman’s eyes, but it was gone so quickly, he couldn’t say what it was. “Octavia Stevens fooled people’s minds, Endeavour, not their hearts. If I remember correctly, your father immediately wanted you as his bagman, despite you only being a constable in his eyes at the time, and your mother and siblings were drawn to you as well. It was their brains that insisted you weren’t part of their family, their memories. Their feelings spoke a different language, even if they interpreted them wrongly.”

Dev thought of Joan flirting with him and shuddered slightly.

“No, this involves difficult magic, and even so – like with love potions or revenge hexes – it only lasted a very short time. Thankfully.” He paused before adding “But that doesn’t mean the next time won’t be worse.”

“You think there’ll be a next time?” he asked quietly.

“I think it’s inevitable.”

There were times when Dev had thought the Chairman’s blunt honesty hurt, but now it did him good. Best to be prepared.

* * *

He hadn’t been back for long before Matthew Foster knocked at the door. “Captain? May I have a word?”

“Of course.” His door was always open, and his men and women knew that.

“It’s – it’s probably nothing. But – you remember Sophie, sir?”

He nodded; he had met Matthew’s as-of-two-weeks-ago-fiancée, a healer under Monica Hicks, briefly during the last Christmas party.

“Well, yesterday she had the day off, and our landlord came to collect the rent. He’s human, and perfectly cordial – normally. She said he was downright rude. Made a few allusions to creatures of the nights and bats.”

Dev blinked. “But vampires can’t transform into bats.”

“If only you had told me sir, I wouldn’t have done it yesterday then” he said flatly.

Dev smiled at the joke. “Thank you, Sergeant. It’s food for thought, I will say that.”

And as he left, Dev started dwelling on resentment.

It wasn’t a very pleasant introspection.

**Eight months ago**

_Now that they’d had a little time to settle down – now that they had spent the last few days getting used to the fact that Morse had never been that, but their son and brother – Fred could sit back and appreciate just what they had gained. Yes, it usually was followed by sharp regret as to what had been lost, but he hadn’t been a copper for decades for nothing, and he knew that he couldn’t afford to play the what-if game._

_And so, he and Dev had gone to work today, as usual. Really, due to his genuine fondness for their lad even back when he’d thought he was just his bagman – a fondness he liked to think came from him knowing the truth, deep down – it was remarkably easy to forget that this hadn’t always been normal._

_Dev – well, that was another matter. He had slowly grown a little too used to pretending when working with Fred._

_He should have seen it coming, if he was being honest._

_They were talking about a case in the squad room – nothing too serious, just a string of small break-ins – in the early afternoon when he said, “Better keep an eye on the eats of town. That’s where most of them seem to have taken place.”_

_“Could mean he lives there, sir, or he’s trying to make us think he is” Dev replied simply, and oh –_

_That hurt. He had underestimated how much it’d hurt. Good God, and Dev had gone through this charade almost every day for three years?_

_“I mean, Dad, he could be…” Dev started to babble, apparently concerned that he’d hurt him, when all Fred wanted to do was take back those years the Army had stolen from them._

_Peter Jakes came to the rescue. He cleared his throat and said, “But if he wanted to fool us, Dev, don’t you think that he would be somewhat smarter than his modus operandi suggests –“_

_There would have been a time when Fred would have wondered when and where Jakes had picked up expressions like_ modus operandi _, but really, it was obvious._

_When their discussion was over, he stepped up to his son. “Dev, a word?” he asked quietly._

_He nodded, looking subdued._

_“I’m sorry” he began again as soon as the door of Fred’s office had closed behind them, “I –“_

_“Don’t, son. No reason to apologise, alright?”_

_He looked at him, then nodded. “It might be easier if we just keep calling each other by our titles when we –“_

_“No!”_

_His own vehemence took him – well, not exactly by surprise, but if he had taken the time to think about it, he would have tried not to almost shout at their oldest._

_Dev had_ flinched _, for God’s sake._

_“Look, Dev” he said quietly, grasping his shoulder. “We were forced to live like this for too long, even if only you were aware of it. I will not play their games anymore. I will not deny my son.”_

_He looked at him, his eyes a little too wide and shining for his liking, but nodded._

_With instincts that must have been honed over years of working with their boy, Jakes chose that moment to reappear, and quickly dragged him away on “Guard business.”_

_Well it was probably for the best if they all calmed down a bit._

_Fred called Win._

_“Oh Fred.”_

_“I know” he sighed. “He just did it automatically, didn’t realize until he saw my face.”_

_“Our poor boy”._

_“Jakes is with him right now.”_

_“That’s probably for the best.”_

_He stared at the picture of Dev and Sam on his desk. God, if someone had told him that day what his son would have to go through in just six short years…”I just don’t want him to think I blame him for it.”_

_“Oh Fred I’m sure he knows. This is_ Dev _we’re talking about”._

_Yes, it was. Not Morse, not even Captain Thursday, but Dev. Their boy._

_“You’ll find the right words when the time comes, I am sure of it.”_

_If only he had been himself._

_Yet, when Dev returned in the early afternoon, he appeared calm and cheerful. Undoubtedly, they had Peter Jakes to thank for that in no small measure._

_“Any news?” he asked._

_“We have a theory, Dad” he said quickly._

_Yes, he was doing better._

_And a phone call from Joan shortly thereafter helped, too. She’d gotten into the habit to make sure things stayed how they were supposed to be. Sam, meanwhile, still trusted his big brother to keep them that way._

_Really, remarkably little had changed from when they had been kids, all things considered._

_Dev’s laughter rang through the squad room and Fred smiled._

_Later, he left for a meeting with the Chairman. Fred still didn’t know hat to think of the – well, he couldn’t say man, could he? After all, he was reasonably sure, that he was the only one who knew the secret the magical creature had trusted him with._

_And he still didn’t know why he had told him in the first place._

_Win called. “Fred, bring him home on time, you hear? I’m making his favourite stew. Joan has promised to be punctual too.”_

_“Good.” Yes, a little family time was just what they all needed, now that the dust had settled._

_And so he took him home that night, soon realizing that Win had alerted their daughter, since Joan pounced upon him shouting “Devy!” with even more enthusiasm than usual._

_As always, he accepted her and Win’s hugs with a flush of pleasure, and it warmed Fred’s heart to once more see them together._

_Joan kept quizzionh Dev about the Guard, being still bent on pursuing a career there; Fred wasn’t quite sure how she proposed to do so, not being magical herself, but Dev appeared more than happy at the prospect of spending more time with his sister once she did._

_He might not yet have found the right words to say, but for tonight, he decided, it didn’t matter._


	7. These Are The Forgeries Of Jealousy

While during the next few days things continued to be quiet, Dev couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. When the Chairman said something was inevitable, it usually was.

For now, though, everything was as usual – he and Peter divided their duties between the police and the Guard, they mostly spent their evenings at Dev’s home unless there was an emergency, and everything was better than he could ever have imagined it to be.

He could have sworn that Mum was even happier than she had been before; only yesterday, he had found her singing to herself as he had come down for breakfast.

“Morning, Mum.”

“Good morning, sweetheart. I see Peter went home yesterday after all?”

He’d laughed. “He said that he has to show up at his flat at least once a week or the landlord will think he’s moving to rob him off his rent”.

Yes, things were going well, and again, that was usually a sign that something was about to go wrong. And he didn’t think that because it was a cliché, but because working with magic, he had quickly figured out that it was indeed one of the rules of the universe.

Still, nothing wrong with enjoying the days while it lasted.

* * *

And so life went on.

They solved a murder _ a rather open and shit case, since they found the wife with the weapon still in her handbag – and a few other minor cases; Joan was developing a while new filing system; and Dev often entertained them by playing the piano when he was in during the evening.

One day, Fred found Win listening to him from the kitchen with a somewhat absent smile on her face. “Oy, pet?”

She blinked. “Oh, I was just enjoying the music, love.”

Somehow, he had the feeling there was more to it than that, but chose not to ask.

* * *

Dev was walking towards his office when he heard it; or rather, them.

It took him by such surprise that he had to stop and listen closely for a moment before he realized who was arguing.

“I don’t see why I should –“

“Because I am telling you to, Sergeant, that’s why –“

It didn’t make any sense. Matthew and Sally usually got along very well; and even if they hadn’t, Dev had enough trust in his team to firmly believe that they would be able to deal with any problems without raising their voices at each other.

“Is there a problem?” he asked immediately, strolling up to them.

They looked away; it was Sally who finally answered, “No, sir.”

He frowned. He’d always encouraged them to be open to him, just like Dad did with those who worked under him; and especially Sally and Matthew had never behaved like this before. “It sounded like an argument –“

“Really, it was nothing, Captain” Matthew said, “I was being silly, that’s all.”

That did sound more like him, but he was still pondering what could have led to them fighting in the first place when he met Peter. “Dev.”

“Peter.”

“Is anything –“

“I’m not sure yet” he said carefully. “But once I know, you’ll know.” He smiled. “You were missed at the breakfast table”.

“Dev, if I let your mother feed me up any more, I’ll have put on twenty pounds before you know it, and I need to keep up with you when you throw yourself head first into danger again.”

There was nothing to say to that.

* * *

Fred had long ago developed an instinct for the current atmosphere in the station, and he knew from the second that he set foot inside today that something was off. Strange wouldn’t meet his eyes as he greeted him good morning, and WPC Trewlove looked rather concerned herself.

He considered just straight asking them what had happened, but he knew this kind of silence. They weren’t ready to speak to their superior officer yet.

And so, he decided to focus on paperwork for now; neither he nor Dev were as adept at it as Joan, nor did they relish it as much, but things had to be done the right way.

He hadn’t been at it long when Strange knocked on his door. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m supposed to tell you that Superintendent Bright wants to see you”. He hesitated. “And I don’t think – he’s not in a very good mood.”

Fred translated this to their superior being on the warpath, or at least what Strange considered one, and nodded, getting up. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

He retreated, obviously relieved, and Fred walked towards Mr. Bright’s office, recalling that he’d already thought his behaviour a little odd once this week. Maybe he was coming down with something? But ever since his close call with the ulcer, he had been more careful about his health…

He knocked.

“Come in.”

He certainly sounded rather angry, but as to what could have caused this, Fred had no idea. He’d certainly not heard anything about trouble at home, and coppers liked to gossip as much as anyone else.

“Sir, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Thursday. I have tolerated this for far too long. Things like this just can’t happen!”

He was surprised at the vehemence in his voice and expression as he threw a file down on his desk. Fred recognized it as one he had signed and sent off to him yesterday. A robbery gone bad from two weeks ago . They’d caught the bastards on Monday afternoon. “What can’t happen, sir?”

It was the wrong thing to say.

“This, Thursday! You ticked the wrong box on this form…”

Fred could only listen to the ensuring tirade as he felt utterly confused. It was such a minor thing, and so easily corrected, that normally, Mr. Bright wouldn’t even have bothered to tell him but just done so himself; so what reason could he possibly have to simply –

And Fred thought of people starting to throw punches because of deep-buried anger and resentment, and his blood ran cold.

**A dream**

**Win did her best, but she couldn’t hide her sniffles when Dev came downstairs in his uniform for the first time. Their children were growing up.**

**Joan, who was fourteen, naturally tried to hide how proud she was of her big brother by sniggering at him. “Look at you, Bobby.”**

**“I can hardly start out as a detective” he reminded her – and also himself, judging by the sight impatience in his voice.**

**“Yes, well, someone has to tell the tourists the time, I suppose” Joan chuckled.**

**“Joanie” she said gently. She knew how much Dev had been looking forward to this day, and wanted it to be as perfect for him as possible.**

**He grinned. “Don’t worry Mum, I know she’s just teasing. And annoyed that she’s not nearly done with school yet.”**

**She stuck out her tongue at him, making Sam laugh; he was looking at his big brother with hero worship glowing plainly on his face, and Win couldn’t bring herself to mind. How could the boy who had looked after them, loved them and played with them all their lives not be a hero in their eyes?**

**“Well, well, well” Fred said, stepping out of the living room. He, of course, was so full of pride he could barely articulate it, but it was alright – Dev well knew what he thought of his chosen profession. “Another copper in the family.”**

**“Yes, sir, Inspector Thursday, sir”.**

**Another snigger from Joan.**

**“Now, Dad’ll always be enough, do you hear? Just be careful around some of –“**

**“Avoid Sergeant Lott and say as little to DCS Crisp as possible” Dev parroted what Fred had drilled into him. “Don’t worry Dad, I got it.”**

**Win was very glad that he’d taken it upon himself to warn their boy; clever as he was, Dev sometimes let people in positions of authority (also so far known as useless teachers and dons) know what he thought of them; in fairness, she was rather sure he had inherited that from Fred.**

**“Oh Dev” She hugged him, then pressed a sandwich into his hands. “You stay safe out there, alright?”**

**“I will Mum, don’t worry.”**

**She already knew she would, but when didn’t she when it came to their children?**

**And so, they waved them goodbye as, for the first time, Dev accompanied his father to work.**

* * *

**A few weeks later, Win reflected that she had always known it would happen eventually; still, she would have preferred it to happen at some point in the future and not today already.**

**She hurried through the hospital corridors. Fred had called her immediately, of course; the kids were thankfully still at school, so she could see with her own eyes what had happened and how their oldest was doing.**

**She hadn’t noticed how wildly her heart was beating until she saw Dev sitting up, a wound on his forehead being cleaned by a nurse. “Mum. You didn’t have to come –“**

**“Of course I had to!” She grabbed his hands and looked into his eyes; thankfully he could focus on her without any problems. “How is he doing, nurse?”**

**The nurse was fighting down a smile, which Win took as encouraging. “Mrs. Thursday, I take it. Your husband is with the doctor now, but it all seems rather benign – not even a concussion.”**

**“See, Mum, I told you –“ She turned to look at Dev again and he wisely fell silent.**

**“Endeavour. Someone threw a brick into your face” she said calmly but firmly.**

**“Yes, the burglar I was chasing decided he didn’t want to go to prison. I got him, though.”**

**The smug look on his face disappeared when he saw Win’s expression. “It’s my duty, Mum” he tried, sounding much smaller.**

**“I know” She sighed, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like getting phone calls about my oldest getting hospitalized.”**

**“Ah, Mrs. Thursday, I presume?”**

**They turned to find the doctor and Fred. She nodded.**

**“Nothing to worry about, ma’am. Just a small wound – and you see it’s been cleaned up; PC Thursday got rather lucky, if I may say so.”**

**She sighed with relief. “But certainly it’d be for the best if he stayed home tomorrow?”**

**“Mum –“**

**“I would indeed recommend he rest for a day or two, yes” the doctor answered, obviously amused.**

**Dev mustered something under his breath that Win decided not to hear; and, as she had done so long ago in London, she reached out and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead.**

**Immediately, any annoyance left his face and he smiled at her somewhat sheepishly. “Alright, Mum. I’ll stay put, I promise.”**

**That was her Dev.**

**In secret, she was rather proud that he had got the burglar, but felt now wasn’t the time to tell him so.**

* * *

**It was far from the only time Dev got injured while he was still in uniform, and if you asked Win, every single one was one too many. He fell in the river while chasing a pickpocket; he got a black eye while trying to stop a pub brawl; one time, a woman hit him with her handbag in a rather delicate spot.**

**He always came back home, but by God, did she wish he wasn’t so injury-prone.**

* * *

**Eventually, what Fred had predicted came to pass and they had a case involving magic. Dev, as the only police officer who had any powers, was temporarily drafted into the detective branch and couldn’t have been happier.**

**Nor could Win have been, when they caught the culprit a week later. She knew Dev would never take any risks he deemed unnecessary, but she also knew what magic could do. She’d leafed through his textbooks now and then.**

**Dev got a commendation for it, of course. Even Crisp had to admit he had done exceptional work.**

**She looked at him during dinner that night and remembered a toothy smile as her toddler played with his teddy bear.**

**How far they had come.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just out of curiosity, did anyone call Bright being affected?


	8. With Thy Brawls Thou Hast Disturbed Our Sport

Even with everything that had been going on, Fred, having his experiences, decided to simply wait until Superintendent Bright had calmed down somewhat and had suggested, “I can take the file back and fix it, sir.”

And then it happened.

“Yes, you’d be expert on that, Thursday, wouldn’t you – things just get _fixed_ when you’re around. A miracle? Hardly difficult for Inspector Fred Thursday, is it. Normal day, more like. No matter whether anyone involved deserves it or not.”

He never found out how he knew, but he realized as soon as the words had left Mr. Bright’s mouth –

He was talking about _Dev_.

 _What the bloody hell_? Superintendent Bright not only knew about the spell, but had also been amongst their most heartfelt congratulants when it had been lifted.

His first instinct was to fight, to yell, maybe throw in a couple of punches. Hadn’t their boy been through enough –

But no, that wouldn’t help either of them.

“Yes, well, thank you, sir” he hastened to say, grabbing the file and leaving before either of them could say something they could regret.

He wouldn’t have managed to do so if he hadn’t known that Superintendent Bright had always been rather fond of Morse in his own way and had nothing but respect for Dev now.

“I don’t want to be disturbed” he told Strange quickly then all but slammed his door behind him.

Something was terribly wrong.

He immediately called into headquarters. It was Foster who answered, immediately pitting him through to Dev’s office.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Something’s the matter with Mr. Bright” he immediately stated.

A puzzled silence followed, then his son took a deep breath. “What do you mean?”

And he told him.

After Dev had pondered the information, he said slowly, “Dad, I don’t mean to – but are you absolutely certain –“

“Positive” he replied. “It must be that thing again – whoever or whatever is influencing folk bringing anger to the surface. I saw his face, son. It was as if he – as if he was angry the spell has been lifted.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Fred closed his eyes as it dawned on him that on the contrary – it did make almost too much.

Dev was many things – he continued to get to know him biter and better, they all did – but opine thing he wasn’t was –

“Yes it does” he said quietly.

“But what reason would he have to –“

“Dev, I lost my child and, against all odds, I got you back. We got you back.”

“Oh.” And for a moment, he fell silent. Then he admitted “It can’t be easy for him. I didn’t even think of it like that.”

No, and why would he, when Fred, who considered the superintendent a friend, if a slightly distant one, hadn’t? “Not your fault, son. I dare say none of us did.”

“Still…” After a moment’s pause he said, “It might evaporate just like with the people who were fighting on the street, but until it does, I suggest you and I keep away from him. If something needs my attention at the station, I can send Peter.” There was genuine care and worry in his voice, and Fred wondered if he could have been even prouder. Probably not.

“Probably for the best” he agreed.

There was little else they could do.

* * *

“Superintendent Bright?” Peter asked. “So art least we know it’s not… contagious; he wasn’t even at the scene.”

“Maybe it’s about the feelings instead. Like Dad pointed out, it’s all too obvious why he should feel some just resentment.”

Peter’s expression clearly indicated that he wouldn’t have used the word _just_ , but Dev felt it was right to do so. After all, Superintendent Bright had lost his only child, while Mum and Dad had, to put it crudely, had two to spare. And yet he’d been the one to return to his family.

Even to someone as ethical as Mr. Bright, it must seem unfair in his darkest moments.

“Alright so we have a second case” Petr mused.

“The Chairman expected it would be so.”

“Of cores he did” he mumbled. “So what now?”

“If we are right, then I hardly think Superintendent Bright would relish being the subject of an investigation of the Guard at the moment. Best thing would be to find a reason for Sally to see him, check if she can read his emotions.”

It was slightly immoral, but it was their best shot.

“Maybe inform him of the progress so far, without mentioning – well – him?” Peter suggested.

“Good idea. Let’s do that.”

* * *

The report that Sally brought them later that day was exactly as was to be expected – Superintended Bright, while being genuinely glad for the Thursdays, nonetheless felt regret at not being able to ever see his child again. And his feelings had been amplified until he felt angry at them.

It was expected, but didn’t make their job any easier. At least Sally thought that the feelings were already ebbing away.

Well, it wasn’t too surprising that someone like Mr. Bright wouldn’t hold a grudge against a friend for long.

And so they set to work, trying to come up with an explanation.

* * *

Fred had had more than a hunch what was going on when he had met Lieutenant Ford in the corridor, but of course she wanted to report to her superior officers before telling anyone else.

He decided to go back to paperwork for now.

About two hours later, a knock on his door rang out and he recognize the superintendent’s sharp, precise movements. “Come in, sir.”

To his surprise, he looked… contrite. Downtrodden. Apologetic. “A word, Thursday?”

“Of course, sir. Cup of tea?”

“No, thank you”. He sat down and fished a cigarette out of his pocket; Fred thought it best to fill his pipe while he lit it.

“The truth is, Thursday, I misspoke this morning, and in quite a spectacular manner, I am afraid. I did not mean to insinuate in the least that Captain Thursday didn’t deserve to return home, or that you should never have learned who he was.”

“I know that, sir.”

He sighed. “Still, I am sorry.”

He nodded; it was enough for them.

**Three months ago**

_As far as Win could tell, and wasn’t that a surprise, things were going… well. There was no crisis going on, every member of their family remembered everyone, and she could finally fuss over all her children again to her heart’s content._

_It had been a difficult month for them all, after Mnemosyne had put that spell on Dev. She didn’t want to imagine what it must have been like for their boy for fifteen long years._

_But now everything was as it should be._

_She was puttering about the kitchen as was her wont – she’d never really quite learned how to sit still unless he had something to do – when the door bell rang out._

_She was surprised to open it to Councilwoman Robbins. “Mrs. Thursday. May I come in?”_

_“Of course” she said, leading her to the living room after offering to put the kettle on. If anything had happened with the Guard, one of the children would have called her, so she wasn’t worried, only curious. The members of the Council were all high-ranking creatures or magic users, so Dev had told her; what could she possibly want from her?_

_“Thank you” Councilwoman Robbins said as she handed her a cup. “You have a lovely home.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“Now, Mrs. Thursday, let me jus come straight to the point. I know all of this can’t have been easy to get used to –“_

_Win interrupted her. She had to. She had heard that sentence much too often, especially in the beginning; from well-meaning older relatives, trying to comfort her because Fred had supposedly “strayed”; from friends who had believed the child to be a burden rather than a joy; from people who really should have know better, like Dev’s school teachers, but who felt it their duty to check if everything was well at home just because she hadn’t given birth to him. “On the contrary. Once I remembered, it didn’t matter at all that Dev’s got magic”._

_She smiled. “I misspoke. As a matter of fact, it_ was _just a figure of speech; we do after all get regular reports from the Guard, and I like to chat with the Chairman in private. The point is, you are, if you’ll forgive me, not just a copper’s wife anymore. You are now the mother of the Captain of the Guard – and one, I may say, who is well on his way to becoming a legend. Now, while there are many who still look somewhat suspiciously on the Council and the Guard – too many centuries of being hunted and hiding will do that to someone – no one in their right mind would say no to charity.”_

_And she understood. “You men like charitable organizations?”_

_“Yes. And like I said, you’re the captain’s mother. It would mean a lot for many if you were to figurehead some of those organizations.”_

_“Does Dev know about this?” she asked, narrowing her eyes._

_“No” she replied honestly. “Quite frankly, it is your decision, and… well… the subject of his family has been a delicate and painful one for him for so long, one gets out of the habit of mentioning it.”_

_Win could tell that she was genuinely fond of Dev – had, in fact, suspected as much as far back as the Christmas party – so she softened. “And what would those charities entail? I’ve never been afraid to get my hands dirty.”_

_Unexpectedly, she tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Forgive me for saying this, but you’re just like I always pictured you, Mrs. Thursday. Just like your son described you on those rare times we spoke of his upbringing.”_

_Since Dev wasn’t one to exaggerate, it made her flush with pride. “Just doing my best, ma’am.”_

_“Alvina, please.”_

_“Win, then.”_

_“Win. So you are interested?”_

_She nodded enthusiastically. Back when Dev had still been a teenager, she had read his magic books – moistly because she wanted to know what her oldest was getting into, but still – she’d always been ready to welcome the supernatural into her home, as long as it made him happy._

_“Well, then. Here are some of the charities I think would profit from…” and as she kept explaining, Alvina handed her a list._

* * *

_Dev came home in the afternoon for a while to check something in his personal library, and she used the opportunity to sit him down with a cup of tea and tell her about Alvina’s visit._

_To her slight dismay, he looked displeased. “I’m sorry. Councilwoman Robbins can be a bit… overenthusiastic at times. I am going to talk to her and…”_

_“No need for that. Alvina was perfectly pleasant, I assure you.”_

_He studied her. “Mum, it’s just – I mean – all of this – you didn’t sign up for –“_

_Another string of word she had had to endure far too often. She took his hand. “No, imagine that. The priest didn’t ask “And do you take this child as your own, and, by the way, he’s got magic, so you better watch out for that, oh, and if you happen to forget him for fifteen years, you’ll be asked to do charity work, alright?”_

_He still looked troubled. “Mum –“_

_“I want to get involved, Endeavour”. She squatted his hand. “I really do. I want to know about every aspect of my children’s lives.” She paused. “Well, maybe not_ every _single one, but as much as I can.”_

_Finally, a smile._

_“And if anything” she continued, “I consider the offer an honour. Shows me my boy has made his way in the world.”_

_Ig only she could have been around to see it. She would always carry that regret with her, but there was nothing that could be done about it._

_“If you’re sure…”_

_“Absolutely, Devy.”_

_He blushed a bit at the use of her oldest nickname for him, but she couldn’t help it. Gently she brushed a lock off her from his forehead and got up to get them some more tea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will all come together in the end... I think XD. In the meantime, I really hope you're enjoying this!


	9. Which She Must Dote On In Extremity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There's a lot of angst in the second half of this chapter. Enjoy!

Win was doing her rounds. She’d already looked in on the orphanage specifically built to care for creatures – it would not have done any good to let the poor dears slip through the cracks and leave a wet nurse expecting a normal baby with one that always ran too hot, or could explode things when they got cranky – and was now walking towards one of the homeless shelters that catered to those who had magic or were magical and felt more comfortable amongst those who were likewise, even if they all didn’t have a roof under their heads.

Mrs. Preisler, an elderly heinzelmännchen originally hailing from Germany (Win’s biggest surprise had been that they were really quite tall, as opposed to what children’s stories had taught her about them) hurried over a soon as she saw her, a big smile on her face. “Mrs. Thursday! So good to see you.”

“Hello, Mrs. Preisler. Mr. Oliphant from the store in Dormant street sends over some more clothes; here. And Mr. Tobbins promised to send over some of the left-overs when he closes his restaurant at night.”

“I don’t know what we’d do without you” she beamed as she took the basket.

 _Probably what you did before_ , thought Win but didn’t say so out loud. It was an unfortunate truth that people tended to be more generous when she showed up, simply because she bore the name Thursday and everyone would rather be on the captain’s good side. As if Endeavour would ever judge anyone based on something like that. “Really, it’s nothing, Mrs. Preisler.”

“Not to those poor souls who find their way here, I can tell you that”. She dropped her voice. “And I know that your son tends to send arrested homeless creatures here or to another one of our facilities rather than lock them up because they have nowhere to go.”

It sounded like something Dev would do. Fifteen years of isolation and separation from those he loved most, and he had kept his good heart, the one that had always led to him befriending lonely children at playgrounds. She didn’t even bother to try and hide her smile as she started walking through the house, making sure everything was well. Just because they had asked her mostly due to her being Dev’s mother, didn’t mean he didn’t take her duties seriously.

The shelter was well-known enough to her by now to immediately recognize the newcomers, and as usual, she focused on them first.

A man in his forties studied her with curious and sharp eyes as she approached. “Hello” she greeted him. “I’m Mrs. Thursday. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Kevin Badcodger. Thank you, I have already received clothes and food” he answered, his voice betraying a slight Cockney accent.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Like I said, I –“ he stopped. “Say, I’ve been living on Oxford’s streets for three years now, and I hear things. Thursday? Like the Captain of the Guard?”

“He’s our oldest” she told him, waiting for his reaction. Many homeless were understandably wary of anyone with a connection with their executive force.

Badcodger, however, chuckled. “The whole family is in the service of the community, hm?”

“Something like that” she replied, wondering if he’d also heard about the spell and the long time she had never known she had an eldest son.

“Thrown you a bit off the deep end, haven’t they, considering… everything?”

Now he was gauging her reaction. He had heard, then. “I wanted to help” she said firmly.

“If you say so, Mrs. Thursday. Just seems to me like you’ve had it harder than me in many ways, no offense.”

“It wasn’t me who struggled through all these years” she told him the truth because she’d learned early on that those without anyone trusted you more easily if you were open and honest. “My oldest… he’s had to pretend for so long.” Another stab of regret, of pain for the lost years. Her Endeavour had grown into a man; that eighteen-year-old who had left to play football with his friends would never return.

“I suppose so” he shrugged. “Never had a family worth speaking of myself, so I can’t tell.”

Oh. That poor man. Pity engulfed her.

Well, he might think he didn’t need anything, but it was obvious he could do with some company, so she provided exactly that, chatting with him for a while.

* * *

 _Alright_ , Dev thought as he looked at the blackboard in the headquarters’ squad room, _two separate incidents, if we count the brawl as one and Superintendent Bright as another._ At least the later had calmed down; Dad had called to let him know of his apology. He’d asked him to reassure the superintendent that there would be no bad blood between them.

Making people’s repressed feelings rise to the surface while also amplifying them. What purpose could it serve, other than disrupt public life as they had seen on the street?

But then, all Mr. Bright had done had been a bit angry towards Dad, and that was hardly cause for undue concern, especially because, even with the amplifier involved, he’d had a reason…

A cup of tea appeared in his line of vision. “I know that look. If no one reminds you to drink, you’ll just stare at this for a few more hours and end getting a lecture from your mother.”

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Don’t mention it” he said, sipping his own tea. “What gets me is the difference between the cases” he said, echoing his thoughts, “Not the similarities.”

“It could have to do with their personalities. Even when Mr. Bright was most upset with me, I was never worried that he’d throw a punch”.

Peter smirked. “True. One thing’s for sure, if your old man ever gets infected, I’m the first to duck.”

“I highly doubt he’d punch you; thankfully the Army has been suspended.”

“Well, that would have been interesting to see…”

They shared a smile before resuming their discussion, trying to find an explanation before the next occurrence, even if it proved once more fruitless.

**A dream**

**She was puttering about upstairs, sipping a cup of tea and looking for the scissors she was sure she had left somewhere. Well, that too – although she had to confess that she had suddenly become convinced that there were some textbooks on magic in the house for no particular reason and decided that now that they had dealt with the Army, as Fred had told her when he called her half an hour ago, it was high time they did their research on how to get Morse his family back.**

**At the door to Sam’s room, she had to pause for a second because it felt like her head was spinning. Thankfully, a moment later, she was feeling alright again. Out of habit, she checked out the room.**

**Everything as it should be. Sam’s things neatly packed away, Dev’s record player in place of prominence, his books –**

**_Dev’s record player?_ **

**Her cup shattered at her feet, and for once, Win didn’t care that the tea was soaking the carpet.**

**Because the room looked like it had done when her son had last left their home fifteen years ago.**

* * *

**She might not have been the youngest anymore, but she didn’t care; she all but ran to the station after getting off the bus.**

**Dev. Oh, Dev. Her Devy, as she’d calmed him when he was very small, stumbling about, clutching his teddy bear, holding onto her skirt to keep himself upright.**

**So many memories were assailing her all at once; the nights she’d believed she’d spent hiding from the bombs with Fred’s parents, only there had been someone else, whimpering in her arms, and she had remained calm because she needed to be for him, she needed to protect her boy…**

**Other scenes too, Dev going to school for the first time, proudly spelling out words to her a few months later, playing Schumann, how happy he had been that day…**

**And that last moment, when he left to spend the afternoon with his friends, and she followed him with her eyes, as if part of her had known, known that she wouldn’t see him as her son again for fifteen long years…**

**What must it have felt like for him when she’d tried to be kind to him as his governor’s wife? She didn’t want to imagine. She didn’t know what had happened, or how, or why, but she knew that she was about to pull him into her arms and never let go.**

**If only.**

**When she arrived at the station, she didn’t pay attention to anyone trying to stop her; she found Fred in the squad room with Joan, but Dev was nowhere to be seen.**

**Where could he –**

**Wait, Joan was – why was Joan crying onto WPC’S Trewlove shoulder, why was Sergeant Jakes hunched over his desk, why was Fred looking like he had back when they had lived ion London and he’d told her about – about – only he was looking even worse now –**

**Her mind understood before her heart could comprehend, could react.**

**_No_ ** **, she thought numbly. No. It couldn’t be.**

**“Fred?” she asked. “Where’s Endeavour?”**

**_No no no –_ **

**He looked at her, blinked, tried to speak but couldn’t –**

**_No no no no –_ **

**It was Sergeant Jakes who answered. “Mrs. Thursday – the Army – Octavia Stevens – we – we were too late. He – he managed to stop her, but at the cost – he – he didn’t make it.”**

**_No no no no no –_ **

**“That’s not true. _Fred Thursday, tell me it’s not true_!”**

**He couldn’t be dead. He _couldn’t_ be. **

**“Oh Mum” Joan sobbed as she went to hug her. “He’s never gonna know we remember!”**

**She held her tightly to her, but all she felt was Dev, as a baby, as a toddler, as a gangly teen…**

**Sergeant Strange was talking on the phone with the expression of someone who had to deliver bad news and didn’t like it.**

**“Take me to him” was all she managed to say.**

**“Win –“ Fred began.**

**”You need to finish the case. He would have wanted to you. And I” she said, as she carefully deposited Joan in WPC’S Trewlove’s care again, “I need to kiss my son one last time. “**

**It was Sergeant Jakes who took her to the morgue.**

**It was only when she saw Dev’s pale, still face that the pain washed over her.**

**Sergeant Jakes held her up. “Mrs. Thursday, I don’t think – ”**

**“Leave me alone with him. Please” she whispered, managing to stand up.**

**He did so, but hesitated at the door. “He died a hero” he finally told her, whispering, his voice all but dying as he fled.**

**The door closed behind him as Win reached out to stroke Dev’s hair. Always so unruly, even when he’d been but two years old.**

**A hero. She didn’t care about that. Why should she wish for a dead hero when she could have had her breathing, living oldest back?**

**She would have left the entire Army escape if it would have meant just one more moment with him, just to tell him –**

**“I love you so much, Endeavour. My boy. We all do.” She kissed his forehead. “Oh God”. Her lips started to tremble. “Remember the war? You used to cuddle close to me… you were so sure that I would be able to keep you safe…” The first tears escaped her, falling on his face. “But I wasn’t, was I? Not than and not now. I should have been there when you needed me the most…” She didn’t care that she wouldn’t have been able to do anything against magic; _she should have been there_. She should have been there for Endeavour, first and foremost, as only a mother could be. “All those times you came around, so thin, so drawn out, and I didn’t know. _I didn’t know_. I lost my child and I never knew” she continued, echoing Joan. “And now – and now – you won’t – ever – “**

**She broke down sobbing over the broken body of the young man who would always be her firstborn, no matter what.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think?^^


	10. I Do Hear The Morning Lark

She woke up to sunshine and singing birds, the exact opposite of the feelings she was experiencing.

_My son. My Endeavour. Gone before his time._

Before she could shake off that terrible dream she’d had – and what a difference to the dreams she had been experiencing this past week, the dreams where she got to watch him grow into a man after all, where he was never taken from them – she spent a horrible minute actually believing it had been the truth, the thought paralyzing her, making it impossible to think, to move, to act.

Then she realized and made her way to his and Sam’s room as quickly as she could, only breathing again when he saw those well-known curls peak out of the sheets.

Win leaned against the door frame and forced herself to calm down. _He’s here. He came home. He’s here and he came home and he’s safe and most importantly,_ alive _, woman_. As the young ones would say, _get a grip._

When it didn’t quite work, she went to make tea.

As luck would have it – or fate, or irony – Dev was the first one up, entering the kitchen with that easy smile on his face she loved so much even back when he was only two years old. “Morning, Mum.”

“Good morning, Dev” she replied, hoping she sounded stronger than she felt, but of course he noticed. Wouldn’t have been their boy if he hadn’t.

She hadn’t turned around so he wouldn’t see her face, but she still heard the frown on his as he asked, “Mum? What’s wrong?”

Of course. All these years… Naturally, he was now always vigilant, always noticing when things weren’t quite normal, always careful to scrutinize his family as best as he could.

She finished making the tea and handed him a cup before sitting down and inviting him to do the same.

He did so while studying her carefully. “Mum?” he finally asked again, clearly concerned.

She did her best to smile at him. “I’m sorry. A bad dream.”

“What about?”

And she knew she would never tell him. No; this was too upsetting, some if the wounds still too raw for her to pick. “Just… it was bad. Let’s leave it at that.”

Before he could say anything else, she took a deep breath and whipped her eyes, then asked, “Would you play something for me? A little pick-me-up?”

He looked at her, seemed to consider his options, then smiled once more, nodding. “A selection of Johann Strauß waltzes coming up.”

She squeezed his hand.

* * *

By the time the others came down, she’d regained control, and so Joan skipped by her on a way to hug her big brother with a quip of “Have him slaving away at the piano again, have you, Mum?”

Sam just smiled when he heard the music, while Fred was too used to it to comment on it.

All in all, it was a better morning than she could have hoped for when she woke up.

* * *

Something had been niggling at the back of his mind for a while now, and it finally clicked today when he saw Mum and realized she wasn’t behaving as she usually would have.

Foster.

Sergeant Foster’s landlord. But of course.

Another possible case.

He would have gotten up and immediately called in, but Mum, while apparently having gotten over her nightmare, still looked a little too worried for his liking, so he decided to pursue that line of inquiry later. Instead, he got up for a moment and used a spell to send Peter a note.

As a matter of fact, they had two cars at their disposal this morning – Dad having driven home from the station last night – and so he told Joanie and Sammy to drive with their father while he would pick up Peter.

Joan rolled her eyes. “Of course. Boys gotta have their fun. Alright.”

“Does this mean I can come to?” Sam chimed in with a mischievous grin.

“Sorry, Sammy, not – “ He thought for a moment. “Actually… we are going to be talking to someone who’s suddenly been behaving hostile towards a female vampire. We don’t know if he has anything against women or creatures or both, and someone normal might be a good idea…”

“Ah, so that’s why it can’t be me” Joan said, her sparkling eyes proving she had immediately understood the real reason.

In truth, if Dev had had any say in the matter, he wouldn’t have let her around anyone who might treat her poorly, but that sadly wasn’t the way of the world.

* * *

“Hey, Dev” Peter got into the car as soon as it stopped, “I got your message. We –“ he stared at Sam. “Ahm, hello?”

“Hello. I’ll be your normal person today” Sam said, grinning.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Tell you on the way” Dev said.

* * *

Joan had just completed the paperwork from last night when Lieutenant Ford entered her office. “Good morning, Sally.”

“Good morning – Joan” she replied carefully. Try as they might, she and Sam had a somewhat strange position in the Guard; despite only having worked there for a few months, they had the respect and loyalty of everyone in the building, simply because of Dev. “Here; the last report from yesterday.”

“Thank you”. She accepted the file, then hesitated. It really wasn’t here job to ask, but, well – Dev himself had proven today that sometimes, a non-magical perspective was what they needed, right? “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Dev has an idea. About people being nastier to creatures in general. Have you noticed anything like this?”

Unexpectedly, she laughed. “I’m sorry, but – I’m a banshee, Joan. There will always be those who can’t understand.”

“No. Of course not. My bad.”

“Still – it’s not a bad idea. Not at all. I’ll ask around.”

“Thanks.”

After all, Joan thought after she’d left, there was no reason for Dev and Peter going at it alone, just because they had been used to do so for years.

**Eight months ago**

_Jim decided that he wasn’t as surprised as he probably should have been._

_As a matter of fact, he should probably have felt utterly flabbergasted, instead of just mildly baffled that Mo – that Dev had been a Thursday all along._

_Really if you thought about it, it almost made too much sense, and certainly more than him and Jakes being friends._

_But as he watched them leave with said sergeant, intent on getting home after the shock most of them had just received, he couldn’t help bit feel that this was… a lot. Quite frankly, he was rather glad he didn’t have the imagination to picture what it must be like to suddenly remember a close family member one had forgotten for fifteen years._

_He caught WPC Trewlove’s eyes and suddenly felt that maybe someone ought to say something. “Well that was…” he stopped talking when he realized that, because he wasn’t surprised, he couldn’t exactly say unexpected._

_Thankfully, she laughed. “I know what you mean. There was always something between DI Thursday and – Captain Thursday, something more than just a governor and his bagman.”_

_That was indeed true._

_The members of the Guard, meanwhile, were busy finishing up the case, each and every one of them looking as happy as they could be, and Jim realized they were because of the Captain having his family back. Good folks, all of them, even with the magic and the madness and the mayhem._

_Really, it had been a good idea of the superintendent’s to send them home. He doubted either Thursday would have been much use to them right now._

* * *

_The next morning, Superintendent Bright called every copper and detective who had known about the spell into his office and explained that the Old Man had been in touch and that only they would ever be able to remember that Captain Thursday hadn’t always been exactly that._

_Well. Jim supposed it made things easier for a lot of folk. Not exactly for them, but really, it was just a matter of taking it one day at a time._

_He’d expected both Thursdays to stay at home, but had once more underestimated their passion for coppering, which he now supposed Dev had gotten from the Old Man. And so they soon come in._

_Sometime later, Jim got his daily instructions, and couldn’t help but glance at the added pictures on his desk. When he met the Old Man’s eyes, he quickly apologized._

_“Don’t, Sergeant. We’ve all been… somewhat taken aback, I dare say.” He looked at the pictures and smiled. “In a good way, though.”_

_“I’m glad to hear it, sir.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “And if I may ask, sir, how’s Captain Thursday holding up?”_

_“Oh, he greatly enjoyed being fussed over by Win and the kiddies this morning, and she gave him five whole sandwiches.”_

_Should have known Mrs. Thursday would insist on that, really._

* * *

_True to DI Thursday’s words, he’d never seen Dev as happy as on that day. Gone was the slightly pessimistic and antagonistic attitude of Morse, and the captain he’d come to know through their last case was friendly, always ready for a laugh and perhaps even slightly hysterical – art least Jim didn’t think he usually worked on reports of murders with a smile on his face; but he certainly wasn’t going to judge him for it, today of all days. “Cup of tea, matey?”_

_“Yes, thank you, Jim” he told him, grinning brightly._

_Jakes, meanwhile, kept glancing at him, a satisfied smile on his own lips._

_Yes, things had irrevocably changed, but if you asked Jim, who no longer had to worry that Morse would faint or the job, or listen to the insults he and Jakes flung at one another, definitely for the better._

* * *

_And so time went on. Jim quickly came to realize that, when he couldn’t reach his father and Jakes wasn’t available, he and Trewlove were Dev’s go-to liaisons when it came to police work, and recognized it for the asset it was. Couldn’t hurt certainly, being friends with the Captain of the Guard, especially if he was as important as his connection to the Chairman suggested._

* * *

_Sometimes, both of them slipped up. Now and then, especially when talking to someone like Jim, Dev would suddenly talk about “DI Thursday” as he had for three long years, or the Old Man would mention “Morse” off-handedly simply because they were so used to it. After Jim tried mentioning it once and saw Dev’s expression, he swore to himself that he’d never do so again._

_One evening, he was called out on a burglary and, since DI Thursday’s house was on the way, he thought he’d pop in and check if he wanted to take a look._

_However, after he’d told the PC behind the wheel to wait for him and got out of the car, he walked up to the house and found himself looking through the window. The entire family was in the living room; Dev was playing something on the piano while Miss and Sam Thursday were dancing a waltz to it, laughing happily. Now and then, Dev turned to watch them, apparently causing him to lose a note, if his laughter then was anything to go by._

_The DI and his missus were sitting on the sofa with glasses in their hands. Mrs. Thursday’s eyes didn’t leave her oldest, an expression on her face that Jim had never seen before – one of love and downright reverence and also slight heartbreak._

_The Old Man was holding her hand, and he too was watching his children as if he still couldn’t quite believe they were all together again._

_Jim raised his hand to ring the doorbell, then looked in on the scene again._

_He let his hand sink and slowly walked back to the car. “You know” he told the PC as he got in “Figure we can do this on our own.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we finally know who's been having these dreams! Also I just wanted more scenes with Sam.   
> Please let me know what you think! No, really (she said in not an all a desperate manner). Any theories?


	11. That Every Man Should Take His Own

“So what do you want me to do, Dev?” Sam asked, hoping he didn’t sound too eager. But how could he not? He was working a case with the Captain of the Guard and his second-in-command. Anyone would have been a little proud about that, he was sure.

“I want you to hang back for now – and watch. If he’s indeed reluctant to talk to creatures or magic users, it might be a good idea not to let him see you with us” he replied. “We’ll try the polite approach, first and foremost, and request his help.”

There had been a time – when he hadn’t known what to make of Dad’s new and slightly weird bagman – when he would have laughed at the thought. Morse and a polite approach? Gently asking for help?

Buti this wasn’t Morse anymore. This was Dev, the brother he’d grown up with – and, at the time of his disappearance form their lives, rather worshipped like a hero, like any boy would a big brother who was always ready to play or advise you and who had magic.

Sam wasn’t like Joan or Dad; when he found himself suddenly remembering, he didn’t scream or punch something. He grew quiet, always had.

And when his initial phone call to the station had been over – when he’d come to understand just how earth-shattering the revelation had been – he’d asked for the afternoon off just to breathe and think. His sergeant had seen his face and immediately agreed.

They’d lost so much. It just wasn’t fair. Dev had done all the right things, had been the best brother and son they could have asked for, he’d had dreams and plans and they had taken them away from him.

If it had been Sam, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do what Dev had done and still return to them with nothing but joy.

He’d asked him, once, shortly after the spell had been lifted, on a bright morning when they’d been the first in the kitchen.

“How did you survive this?”

The words had hung ibn the air, and for a second, he’d feared this would now always stand between them, but then Dev had quietly replied, “Because the one thing worse than being separated from you, Sammy, would have been never to return at all, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

And somehow, that had been enough.

He obeyed the captain’s order – for Dev was in full captain mode now, ready for anything they might throw at him – and stayed in the car, watching as Dev knocked on the door.

It only occurred to him then that, while he was working at headquarters, he’d never really seen Dev in action before and paid close attention, since Joan was sure to quiz him about it later.

He didn’t like the look on the face of the man who opened when Dev showed him his ID. Sure, he could definitely take him – wasn’t the youngest anymore, by the looks of him – but still…

The man said a few and by apparent harsh words and closed the door in their face.

They walked back to the door. “Well” Peter drawled as they got into the car, “That man’s got something against magic and make no mistake.”

“Yes, but until now he had no problem renting his place to Foster and his fiancée. Something’s not right” Dev said decidedly. “Sam, it would probably be best if you –“

And then he spared them the trouble by leaving his house and repairing to the pub at the other side of the road.

“Bit early for it” Peter said.

“Yes, but an opportunity, right?” Sam asked enthusiastically.

“Be careful, Sammy.”

He couldn’t help but snort, and could very clearly tell in the rear-view mirror that Peter found the thought rather amusing as well.

Dev glared at him (not that it worked. He’d been on the receiving end of that glare far too often). “I mean it.”

He sighed. “Dev’s, it’s an old guy in a pub, and even if I wasn’t in the army for long, I know how to defend myself. Don’t worry. Give me half an hour.”

* * *

“I know; you don’t have to say it” Dev said as they watched Sam enter the pub.

“But it’s no fun otherwise. _He’s not eight anymore, Endeavour_.”

It wasn’t said to hurt him, he knew that; and yet the old familiar ache raised its head, pounded in his breast. Yes. Sammy wasn’t eight anymore. Dev hadn’t been there to watch him grow.

“Still stares at you like you hung the moon, though.”

“I used to do tricks for them, when they were ill. Sneak into their rooms” he said quietly.

Peter had heard that story before, of course. Over time, he had heard almost all his stories, even those who hurt the most.

“And you did so yesterday. And you will again and again, for years to come.”

Sometimes, Dev forgot how wise beyond his years Peter could be.

“Thank you” he said quietly.

“Not for this”.

And they silently waited for news.

* * *

As he had promised, Sam slipped back into the car half an hour later, and despite everything, Dev’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly with relief. It was, he defended himself, Sam’s first outing as a kind of… acting Guard officer after all. “And?”

He was trying not to smile. “Alright, get this. Turns out, when Mr. “Call me Toby” there was still rather young, a banshee ran away with his wife. Or the other way around, if you ask me. Ever since then, he hasn’t trusted “those people”. He actually pronounces it like that. Seems like he’s been thinking about it a lot again in the last few days, even though he doesn’t seem the type of guy who would dwell on things for long.”

“Another incident, then” Dev decided. He turned to Peter. “We need to keep careful score of all of them. God alone knows what could happen if they multiply.”

Peter nodded to show he agreed, and they returned to headquarters.

As the following days turned into weeks and the cases, indeed, mounted, cataloguing them was all they could do.

**A dream**

**They had Dev back… and yet Win couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong.**

**She told herself that she was just imagining it. After all, judging by the others – Fred’s beaming pride, Joan’s explosive joy, Sam’s quiet contentment – she was overreacting to small things, so inconsequential details that she just had to be wrong.**

**And yet, sometimes, she couldn’t help but think that there was something… almost _artificial_ about the way he interacted with them. **

**Look at her. Artificial. Interacted. If she hadn’t been so worried, she would have thought that she had learned something from Dev’s crosswords with a smile.**

**But she was worried, and she could only watch.**

**In time, she decided it was the expression in his eyes; as a child, he had always been so open. A question had always made him tell her anything she needed to know about how he was feeling and what he was thinking, but now there was something… secretive about him.**

**And it wasn’t the magic. No; they had rubbed along fairly well when he had been a teenager, whether he was performing tricks for his siblings or not.**

**No.**

**_Something_ ** **was wrong, but Win had no idea what to do about it.**

**One day, she was making breakfast when Dev came downstairs. She hugged him good morning and tried to forget her worries.**

**It was when he sat down at her insistence that she realized.**

**While he still helped out when she asked – she suddenly remembered that he hadn’t offered to help once since he had come home, and he had always been the first to do so. Was he still angry at them for forgetting him? Was that it? But he had never been vindictive, or vengeful.**

**With a shudder, she wondered if that was still true. She didn’t know him, did she, this man he had become.**

**He hastily drank the tea she had made but declined eating breakfast or – even worse – her making a sandwich for him. “Too much to do – Mum.”**

**She told herself she had just imagined the slight hesitation before the last word. “You haven’t played piano in a while” she said instead quietly.**

**It was true – he’d played for them once, a few days after he’d returned, but ever since then he’d not shown any interest in the once much-loved instrument.**

**“No, it’s like I said – too much to do. See you later.”**

**And he left without realizing she had moved to hug him once more.**

**She wished she could have blamed this on something or someone – maybe ether stressful work for both the Guard and the place, or the Chairman; she didn’t quite know what to make of him yet – but during one of the dinners where they’d invited him, she saw him study Endeavour and knew that he had noticed as well.**

**It made her food hard to swallow.**

**During another family dinner, Joan was telling them about work – somehow, she had abandoned her plans to work at the Guard for the time being, and really, why weren’t they closer, _why weren’t they closer_ – and it was such a minor thing, but she told them about a regrettable foreclosure, and Dev was still smiling that now empty smile of his, no empathy, no pity, nothing. **

**Something had happened to her boy, had turned him from kind-hearted and good and wonderful to… this.**

**Still, she persevered. If there was any… problem that kept Dev from returning completely to them, she felt certain that it could be overcome. After all, fifteen years was a long time to spend alone.**

**And then she got reminded that he hadn’t been alone, at least not for the last ten years.**

**It was a Saturday afternoon – everyone else had gone out, Dev, to her chagrin, not to the movies with his siblings, but to work – when Peter Jakes came to see her.**

**She hadn’t met him or heard of him often since the spell had been lifted, which she would later think should have been her first warning sign. Best friends, Fred had claimed them to be and yet, when she actually could get Dev to tell her about his day, Peter rarely featured in his stories.**

**He looked pale but determined. “Mrs. Thursday, we – we need to talk. I considered speaking to DI Thursday first, but…” he trailed off and she understood that what he had to tell her was something that would have caused Fred to lash out, maybe punch him.**

**It was only then that fear gripped her heart.**

**And yet, what he told her then was far worse than anything she could have imagined.**

* * *

**“What do you mean, trying to take over?”**

**Peter wouldn’t look at her, nor touch his tea. “There was a time when… well, when it was assumed that he’d eventually take over as the Chairman. But I think lately… the Chairman has noticed too that he has – that he’s become –“**

**And he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, but instinct whispered them in her ear anyway.**

**_Dark. Bad. Evil._ **

**“It was Octavia Stevens” he said suddenly. “I don’t know how, but – she did something to him – that day. We should have been faster. _I_ should have been faster.”**

**She laid a hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault”.**

**It wasn’t, she told herself. It was Octavia Stevens’. And she had known.**

**She had known when she looked into Dev’s empty eyes. She’d _known_. **

**“What are you planning on doing?” she asked quietly, aware that she would have to tell the others eventually.**

**He swallowed. “I have to – to speak to the Chairman. And then I – we need to decide what to do.”**

**_What to do_ ** **. But what could they do if what he had told her was true and De was as powerful as they said, except for – except for –**

**She was his mother. A mother protected her children. But her child, her boy, her son, the one she had raised, the one who had grown to lead the Guard – if Peter was right and nothing could be done, he was gone already, before she had ever gotten him back.**

**She closed her eyes, willing the tears away. There would be plenty of time for that later.**

**“Peter, if it comes to that… if the worst happens… I know he would have wanted you to do whatever was necessary.”**

**It was a promise; it was an absolution; and it was the last thing she wanted to say.**

**But sometimes, there was nothing one could do, and so she had to give him the blessing to kill her beautiful boy if necessary.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, we're starting to get a little cruel here, I'm afraid.


	12. This Falls Out Better Than I Could Divise

Win studied Dev a few weeks later as he came downstairs. “You came in late last night again, dear” she said quietly. She’d been worrying for a while now.

And her dreams didn’t help. Oh, sometimes she didn’t dream at all, and now and then she had nice ones like those were Dev stayed with them after all, but the nightmares… they made her shudder just recalling the _feeling_ of them.

The worst had been the one where Octavia Stevens had succeeded in transforming him into something evil like herself.

“I know, Mum” he sighed. “But we have our experiences, and creatures tend to listen to explanations when a member of the Guard is present, the higher up, the better.”

 _Incidents_ , as Dev called them, had indeed multiplied over time, and now not a day went by where some kind of fight didn’t break out, may it be between humans, creatures or both, although thankfully no further brawls had taken place, and every member of the Guard was almost constantly employed to soothe frayed nerves.

“Doesn’t mean you have to run yourself ragged” she fretted. Then, she continued quickly, “Actually I’ve had an idea.”

“Oh?” He looked at her. “Please tell me. Anything at this point.”

This meant he really was exhausted, but she didn’t let him know she’d caught on. “I was thinking of Miss Frazil. She has been after you for an interview for quite some time now, hasn’t she?”

“Oh yes” he sighed. “Apparently, the copper’s son who has magic and built up the Guard is a good scoop.”

“Well then use it” she insisted. “Dad’s always said that Miss Frazil is the bets of the bunch, and she likes you” as anyone would, she thought, “and people need to know. People need to be informed. If they know their feelings are amplified, if they are aware, then they might stay away from others hen they feel the effects of whatever is happening”.

He studied her, then sighed and looked down at his plate. “I think I just got too used to being secretive.”

Yes, he probably had. How often had he told himself don’t give anything away, how often had he had to pretend that he didn’t know his siblings inside and out, that he didn’t love Fred or Win herself as only a child could love their parents?

She kissed his forehead. “And you don’t have to, anymore.”

And he had them to remind him of it.

He smiled. “I’ll call Miss Frazil as soon as I get to headquarters.”

At least it was another way of dealing with this, Win thought.

* * *

To say that fired was surprised later that morning when he got a message form the Chairman requesting a meeting would have been an understatement. He mostly saw the – for lack of a better word – man when Win invited him to dinner or during charity events; he naturally preferred working with Dev when it came to day-to-day Guard or police work.

Still, he let a PC drive him to the Council Building.

The Chairman immediately called out for him to enter; he had clearly been waiting for him. “Inspector Thursday. Take a seat.”

He knew that he wasn’t offered a chair out of courtesy for himself, but out of respect for Dev. He didn’t mind that in particular – he was proud of what his son had achieved, insanely so. But he didn’t quite like being summoned like a servant.

“I won’t waste our time, Inspector – the developments in the last weeks worry me. The Guard is being stretched too thin. Yesterday I couldn’t even manage to get hold of him – the Captain, I mean”.

 _Always want my boy at your beck and call, do you_ , Fred thought somewhat morosely. Just because Dev trusted him, didn’t mean he did as well; then again, he hadn’t known him for nearly as long as his son had… “He only came home around eleven-thirtiesh. My wife was rather concerned about his lack of sleep:” He knew he should probably have added a _sir_ on to the end of that sentence, but couldn’t bring himself to. The Chairman was not his superior officer, and he had just summoned him here.

He nodded. “I am not surprised. He has always taken his duties very seriously.”

 _The duties you gave him._ He simply nodded as well, to show he agreed; God knew he’d thought the lad was working too much when he had believed him to be just his bagman, and now that he was aware of the truth…

“The reason I have asked you here, Fred, is that I wish you to keep a close eye on your son. All of this… it reminds me of spomething”. His face darkened. “Nothing good.”

Fred waited, but apparently, nothing more was forthcoming. Really? He believed he had to be told to look out for his children? It had hardly been Fred’s fault that he hadn’t been able to… “I always do.”

“Good. Then that’s everything, Inspector.”

At least he hadn’t called him Fred again. Although, why he should dismiss him in the same way Superintendent Bright now and then did when he had a bad day, Fred couldn’t say.

* * *

“Ah. The pride of Oxford”. Miss Frazil’s eyes were sparkling.

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that” he said simply.

“Oh, I assure you, we get enough questions about the Guard – and Captain Thursdays role in the running of the city.”

“I don’t run the city. The Council does – as far as magic is concerned. Now and then I confer with the Chairman, but that’s it.”

The look she gave him was a decidedly unimpressed one, and there was something in their sparkle that made him once more wonder if she suspected something of the spell. But that wasn’t important right now.

“Miss Frazil, you might have noticed some rising tension in the city –“

“Yesterday two of my colleagues almost came to blows over the story. I think I have, yes.”

“Yes. Well, there is a reason for it…”

**Three months ago**

_So far, Peter had managed to visit Dev’s office three times today, each one with a different excuse as to why he needed him to look at this specific file right now._

_He knew why he was doing it, of course; knew that he simply want quite able to not check up on him after everything that had happened._

_He was rather sure Dev’s hostile looks when he had been convinced he was called Morse would follow him into his nightmares._

_There was a knock on his door, and his best friend soon stepped into his office, looking much better than he had this past nightmare of a month. If Peter hadn’t known it to be impossible, he would even have thought that he had put on a little bit of weight again already. “Captain?”_

_“Lunch time” he told him, fishing another sandwich out of his pocket and handing it to him. “Don’t give me that look; Mum won’t take no for an answer, especially after you brought me back.”_

_In truth, Peter didn’t need any thanks for that, for the simple reason that not bringing Dev back would have been unthinkable._

* * *

_“Finished the survey of what the Guard has been up to” Dev told him in the pub as they were eating their sandwiches, and belatedly, Peter realized that neither Joan nor Sam had accompanied them, meaning that most likely Dev wanted To Talk “although like I said, it was completely unnecessary. Everything’s perfect.”_

_It hadn’t been. Dev thought he was expendable; Peter knew better. Something had been missing this last month, something indescribable and almost ethereal. Every member of the Guard had felt it; that’s why they all, believers and non-believers alike, had gone to the Temple to pray for their Captain. “I am glad to hear it”._

_A pause._

_Peter sure as hell wasn’t going to start this conversation._

_Then, hesitantly, “Peter…”_

_“Dev, I told you, if you of all people –“_

_“This isn’t about me taking care of myself. God knows I need people to do that for me. But… we can’t do this. We can’t be so dependent on one another that we… forget to function when the other is not around.”_

_A part of him wanted to hit back, wanted to tell him that was easy to say now that he had returned to his family while Peter had only had Dev for so long. But it wasn’t like that. What he and Dev had, it ran deeper; a magical connection that had kept them going when things had gone tough._

_And it wasn’t as if he was asking for their bond to be broken. No. He just wanted to make sure they could exist without the other watching over their shoulders. And Peter couldn’t fault him for that. “I know I didn’t things handle quite as well as I should have.”_

_“On the contrary. You handled everything but yourself”. A smile. “I know the feeling.”_

_“Look at us” he sighed. “What would your mother say?”_

_“Oh, her exact words this morning were, “And you better bring that boy back for dinner, Dev, he looks like he needs it.””_

_Peter was left to stare at his best friend as Dev happily continued munching on his sandwich._

* * *

_And so, life went on. After a while, it was rather difficult to dismiss the notion that the Thursdays were trying to make him another one of their own; and it hardly seemed like Dev had anything against it, the way his eyes sparkled when Peter tried and failed to wriggle himself out of another invitation for dinner while Mrs. Thursday was already taking off his coat one evening._

_Peter had never known what it was like to be part of a family – but he supposed this was what it must be like when he realised Joan and Sam were starting to tease him in the same way they did Dev._

* * *

_“Oy, lad, where’s Strange?”_

_Peter was busy with a file and didn’t realize until DI Thursday repeated his question – word for word – and he looked up that they were almost alone in the squad room._

_“Ahm… he – he went to check out a lead, sir. About half an hour ago.”_

_He nodded. “Alright. Keep me posted.”_

_And now that was apparently how they communicated, Peter thought as he watched him retreat into his office._

* * *

_He’d gone to question a couple of goblins and was wating for them in their living room when he heard the whispering going on next door._

_“And watch what you’re sayin’, we’re not goin’ to be able to talk us out of this or pay him off – that’s the Captain’s man through and through, they say.”_

_He just managed to hide his smile by the time they went to join him._

* * *

_Paradoxically, it somehow became easier to spend time on his own now that the Thursdays were always ready to welcome him. It was almost as if the safety blanket that Dev had always so happily provided had now extended – and knowing that he wasn’t alone anymore, that there were more people he could reach out to helped in ways he could never have imagined._

_Now, when he’d had a bit of a bad night, Mrs. Thursday seemed to immediately guess it and whisked him off to the breakfast table when he arrived at their house, and he was sent off with a sandwich like the others. DI Thursday treated him almost as much as his right-hand man as his son; and Joan and Sam, especially when Dev wasn’t available, were always glad to see him at lunch._

_Yes. Things had just gotten better and better since Dev’s triumphant return._

_“What’s so funny?” said man asked suddenly and Peter looked up to find him standing in the connecting door between their offices._

_“Nothing. Why?”_

_“You were smiling, and I know for a fact that the budget reports usually don ‘t cause that effect.”_

_He shrugged. “Just a good day in general.”_

_That, in turn, caused Dev to smile widely._

_Yes, a good day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't emphasize how much comments keep me going! Hope everyone is still enjoying this!


	13. I Led Them On In This Distracted Fear

The article Mrs. Frazil had written did inform people of what was going on, but as they soon learned, this also had its downside.

For once, suddenly everyone was very aware of their feelings at all times and therefore incidents continued to be reported and to have to be examined.

* * *

“Now, Mr. Brader“ Dev said, rubbing his face with one hand, “I do understand that you have some reservations when it comes to pixies…”

“Thieves they are, everyone knows that! My ol’ mum used to say…”

“Mr Brader –“

“They are dangerous, I tell you!”

“Mr. Brader, I happen to have magic, and do I look dangerous to you?”

Peter barely managed to hold back his laughter. It probably wasn’t the best idea for the Captain of all people to ask if he looked dangerous.

In fact, it hardly reassured the man who had insisted that a pixie in a shop be arrested for pickpocketing despite all they had done was look around.

But at least it seemed to have some kind of effect, since he apparently suddenly recalled that a. that was Captain Thursday he was speaking to, b. said captain had managed to disband the Army of Morality and c. was also rather obviously irritated by now. “I – I mean – I just was –“

It scared him back into his normal, slightly curmudgeonly self, so that was something.

“Dev, no offense” Peter said as he hastened away, “But how about next time I do the talking?”

“That might be for the best” he admitted, sighing. “Anyway. Would you please assure Mistress Orchidblossom that no steps will be taken against her?”

“Sure thing, sir.”

Really, if only all things could so easily be defused, Peter thought as he went to follow his orders. But he knew magic, and things were bound to come to a head eventually. They always did.

* * *

“Here, Mrs. Preisler. Another few shop who have promised their assistance”. Win passed her the list.

It had been a pleasant day so far, and thankfully, no dreams had disturbed her sleep that night.

“Oh thank you so much, Mrs. Thursday!”, the heinzelmännchen, who, despite her multiple attempts to get her to call her Win, stuck by her last name, beamed.

“Anyone needing any special help today?”

“Oh no, apart from the fact that some of our clients are getting a little cabin fever” her voice dropped as she continued, “With tensions rising, we thought it prudent to ask them to stay, and to send those who can’t to other facilities. There are so many who bear the homeless resentment for some reason or another.”

She bet there had already been some incidents, but didn’t press her for details. Dev would know, anyway.

So she made her round.

“Ah, Mr. Badcodger” she said to the man she’d met on her previous visit.

He gave beer the surprised smile she’d seen on other homeless peoples’ faces when they realized someone had bothered to remember their name. “Mrs. Thursday. Good morning.”

She looked at the painting eh as busy with, a pretty good depiction of an antique-looking hourglass. “Oh. That’s nice.”

“Thank you” he stared at it. “Time’s been on my mind, lately.”

Small wonder, with the poor dears having to be locked up for their safety. “Oh?” she asked, encouraging him to keep talking. She might not have been able to do anything about him not being free, but she could make him feel better by listening.

“Yes. You see, I have been more or less homeless for over ten years at this point. And now that I have a roof under my head, although in circumstances I would not have chosen, I have been wondering if they have been lost years. Lost to me, and to anyone I could have met or helped or maybe loved…” he sounded wistful.

Win bit her lip, then very carefully replied, “Mr. Badcodger, you told me the last time we met that you’ve heard things… so you are probably aware that I, too, have lived through some years that could be considered lost to me.”

Oh, she had ben with Fred and Joan and Sam, of course. She had loved them and watched them grow and been happy in those years – but they had still been years _without Dev._

She hadn’t been at his graduation. She had never seen him in a police uniform. She had never known the worry of watching him leave for his very first case.

So many things she had never got to experience, that _they_ had never got to experience. And to know what Dev must have suffered…

He proved that he knew indeed when he said, “Your oldest son. Captain Thursday.”

She nodded. “You should have heard the whispers when he was a baby. The condescension in their voices when family members came to see me. Oh, not Fred’s parents or grandparents; they doted on him from the beginning. But no matter how many people turned their backs, I didn’t care. He’s my son.”

“I understand that. I can’t say I’ve ever had children of my own, but once you’ve had someone from a baby…”

“And then we lost him for fifteen entire years” she said, unable to stop herself. “And I never even knew. My own child was all alone in the world, and I never even knew… Do you know he never blamed us? Not once. He just wanted to come back home, all this time.”

She then suddenly stopped talking, unsure whether she was not rather airing here grievances than helping Mr. Badcodger, but he seemed to be taking it well.

“I suppose… I suppose if an eighteen-year-old can lose everything and still build up the Guard, then I can try and become a productive member of society again.”

“Take your time” she said, “No matter what happens, it’ll be a marathon, not a sprint.”

His eyes twinkled.” Apparently, wisdom runs in the family.” He looked at his painting again. “And yet… sometimes all one wants is the lost time back, wouldn’t you say?”

Thinking of her oldest son leaving their house so long ago, she could only agree.

**A dream**

**Win once more couldn’t suppress a surge of guilt when Endeavour came downstairs in the morning, mumbled a greeting and set the table before sitting down to have breakfast, as usual staring at his plate and barely interacting with any of them, least of all paying his sibling much attention.**

**It wasn’t her fault, she told herself once more; she had really and truly believed that she’d be able to love Fred’s child; that it hadn’t come to pass was unfortunate, that was all.**

**Sadly, children noticed such things much more than most adults believed; and Endeavour, she had come to realize, had felt from the first that there was nothing behind the crusts cut off his sandwich or her comforting hugs when the bombs had gone done, nothing tangible, nothing _warm_. **

**And of course he had seen the difference in her eyes when Joan and Sam had been born.**

**So it was no surprise that he had grown into a sullen and all but monosyllabic teenager, who answered their questions but never seemed interested in asking them any, and who preferred to spend his time alone with his books.**

**He and his siblings weren’t close either. She had made some efforts over the years to try and get them to be, but had stopped when, upon the suggestion that he could take them to the park, Joan had grimaced and complained, “but Mum, when he takes us he doesn’t wanna play anyway. He just sits down and reads”.**

**Really, she told herself, she had done her best. They had clothed him and fed him and given him all the means necessary to be good at school and win a scholarship to university; and they had raised a responsible young man, at least. When they had found out he had magic (accidentally, as Endeavour, as always, had kept silent) and spoken to him about going to magic school, it had turned out that he had already been doing so.**

**“Mum, can I have another egg?”**

**She smiled at Joanie. “Of course, dear.”**

**That alone would have been all the indication a clever boy needed, she thought guilty. She had never been able to bring herself to calm him by a nickname or an endearment.**

**“Well, son” Fred tried as he now and then still did, “Any plans for today?”**

**Endeavour raised his head and answered evenly, “No. I might go to the library after school.”**

**He’d been spending less and less time at home as his eighteenth birthday came closer and closer.**

**That reminded her. It was, after all a special birthday, and she should really try again. “By the way, Endeavour, what would you like for your birthday?”**

**He’d never asked for much. Mostly he’d requested books or records – all things, she thought ruefully, one could pass the time with alone.**

**“It’s alright, Mother. I need nothing.”**

**Mum and Dad had quickly given way to Mother and Father as he had grown up and realized. She couldn’t blame him for it.**

**“But it’s your birthday” she insisted. She might never have been able to love him, but she couldn’t deprive a boy of his parties. “Surely you –“**

**“I will be on my way to London on my birthday.”**

**“London!?” Fred exclaimed. “What are you going to do in London?”**

**“I applied for a scholarship there as well. Magical studies. I got it, plus rooms and board.”**

**She wished she could have been proud. “You didn’t tell us that.”**

**He shrugged. “I didn’t think it would interest you.”**

**“Now, listen, young man –“ Fred growled.**

**He got up and cleaned his plate. “I don’t see what’s the point. Lets just stop pretending.”**

**He sounded so much older than his years.**

**“I’ll leave, and you can finally be a family without a cuckoo in the nest. That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it.”**

**Win felt ice trickling down her spine, guilt gnawing at her guts. She should never have let him know.**

**“I’m off to school”.**

**And with that, Endeavour left the house.**

* * *

**On his eighteenth birthday, Win woke up early – it was barely gone six – and walked downstairs, something telling her –**

**She had been right. Endeavour was putting on his coat.**

**“Weren’t you going top say goodbye?” she asked quietly.**

**His hands stilled for a moment, then he continued buttoning the coat up. “I didn’t see any reason for it. I left a note thanking you for talking care of me all these years on the kitchen table.”**

**“Let me at least make you a sandwich.”**

**“I am not very fond of corned beef.”**

**Another thing she had never known.**

**“Endeavour…” She didn’t know what she was about to say. Should she apologize?**

**“Just tell me one thing” he interrupted her, checking his appearance in the mirror, his calm exterior betrayed by the fact that he sounded vulnerable when talking to her for the first time in years. “Was it me?”**

**“No”. She could be honest with him, at least. “If anything, it was me.”**

**He nodded, as if to himself, and picked up his suitcase. “I have packed all I need.”**

**She had never known how few possessions he actually cared for.**

**He hesitated then said, “Goodbye, Mother.”**

**“Will you write?”**

**He looked at her then and asked, honestly and quietly, “What for?”**

**She didn’t know how to answer, and he nodded to himself again, as if confirming something.**

**Then he turned and left their house, never to return, she suddenly realized.**

**It was with a peculiar surge of pain that, as the door closed behind him, she felt something like the warmth she experienced when looking at Joanie and Sam towards him for the first time since Constance had entrusted her son to her.**

**But she had wasted too many years, had failed her duties and worst, Endeavour.**

**And so, she leaned against the wall, feeling faint and miserable, and whispered, for the first and last time, “Be safe out there, sweetheart.”**

**In all the years that followed, only one communication ever reached them.**

**It was to tell them that Endeavour had changed his last name to Morse.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this was mean, I admit it. Not sorry though^^


	14. I Yield You Up My Part

Win had been trying to fool herself into believing that she was slowly growing indifferent to the dreams. So she had nightmares during a trying time – there was nothing surprising about that; and given his occupation and their history, it equally made sense that they should be centred around Dev.

But nothing could have prepared her for this one.

Her heart was beating fast when she woke up, shuddering despite the unusually warm April they had been having.

The one where Dev had died, she could understand. The one where he had turned evil, too. But her not loving her Endeavour? Where had that come from?

She got up as to not disturb Fred and walked down to the living room.

She studied the pictures on the mantlepiece until she found what she was looking for an dished it down.

The smile of a three-year-old Dev promptly calmed her down, as it had often done before.

How could anyone have looked at this boy and not loved him? It was beyond comprehension.

She had felt it, that first time Fred had placed him in her arms, bright and strong, a love unlike any other she had known before – the love of a mother. And as Dev had looked up at her and then nuzzled his little face into her blouse to be more comfortable, she had known that would never change. As it indeed had not.

“Mum?” Dev was suddenly standing in the doorway. “Another bad dream?”

“It would seem so.”

He hurried over to her. “I could make sure –“ he raised a hand but she caught it and shook her head. “No, sweetheart; you have enough to do without squandering your magic on me.” She squeezed his hand. “A few bad dreams won’t hurt me.”

“If you say so” he said, still looking troubled.

“I do” she confirmed, putting down the picture. “Now how about breakfast?”

* * *

Dev hadn’t been going through the reports for long when Joan knocked on his office door. “Hey Dev, you got time?”

For them, always. “Of course.”

Her expression clearly stated that she didn’t believe him, but she still laid down several papers on his desk. “The things is, I have been thinking about what’s been going on. And you know I’ve been working on a system to compile data more efficiently.”

He nodded. He was well aware of Joan’s determination to give them the most advanced filing system in the country.

“Well, I was going through the list of incidents – by the way, why would someone throw a cake at a redcap –“

“Haddon said the woman happened to be baking when she saw her neighbour’s dog relieving itself on her lawn and overreacted”.

“Ah. Well, let’s hope that never happens to Mum. Anyway, here” she laid a card on top of the papers. “Do you notice something?”

He ruefully thought that last week, there had been much fewer dots on there.

“I know” she said with the immediate instinct of a sibling how had grown up with another and therefore could easily guess what he was thinking, “But I meant this. When you look at it from above… almost looks like it’s slowly been growing… well… to the outside from the street where the first fight took place, right?”

He tilted his head to the side. Granted, it wasn’t a perfect circle or any symbol that he recognized, but Joan could be right, and they had precious little to go on, so he would take it. “Could be. Thank you, Joanie.”

She beamed. “Couldn’t let Sam have all the fun.”

“I suppose not” he replied, grinning at her. He wouldn’t have traded his siblings working for the Guard for anything in the world.

“Anyway, I’ll go and check how Sam’s getting on. See you at lunch?”

“You bet.”

And she left him, still with a smile on his lips.

Even after eight months, it sometimes felt ridiculous amazing to be back home.

* * *

“Trouble is” Peter began later after he’d shown him the map, “This goes in all directions, meaning we don’t have a pattern.”

“I know. But still… it’s something.”

And Dev had learned early on that with magic, just a little something could go a long way.

* * *

Later, the Chairman surprised him with a visit. Since he knew his habit of doing so all too well, Dev wasn’t in the least perturbed. “Chairman. Would you like to sit down?”

“No, thank you.”

With a start, Dev realized he looked _worried_.

It was downright bizarre. He had hardly ever seen him openly perturbed – the last time had been when he had returned after Mnemosyne’s spell had been lifted, and even back then, he had wondered if he’d simply not wanted to lose a captain who had proven his worth over and over again.

“I assume you have kept me up to date?”

“Of course, sir” he hastened to say wondering what could have caused this reaction. The Chairman had barely ever shown emotion when discussing the Army of Morality of all things, so why –

“And everything is… well?”

“So far, I mean, there have been a few more incidents…” he replied somewhat helplessly.

“I meant at home.”

Dev blinked.

_What?_

“We – we’re all well, yes. None of us has been affected so far.” He had considered Mum’s nightmares for a few moments but then discounted them. They were too different from the other reported attacks, and she seemed none the worse for them, although he still would have liked her to get a good night’s sleep instead.

Maybe, if she didn’t want him to use his magic, he could get her a potion, some dypsis lutescens maybe…

“Good. That’s… good. Keep my appraised.”

And for the first time, Dev wasn’t sure whether he meant to case or – well – his and his family’s well-being.

How strange.

But then, he reflected once he was alone again, the Chairman had always seemed a little strange to humans, so why should he be surprised now?

**Twelve years ago**

_He knew he’d been overdoing it, so intent had he been on finishing his studies. Part of him knew that he just wanted it over and done with because his family wouldn’t be there to celebrate it with him._

_Still, he should have paid more attention to his cold, he thought miserably on the morning he woke up shivering and feverish. But as of yet, there was no reason to think that a day in bed wouldn’t cure it._

_He was wrong._

* * *

_His mind was foggy, and he was feeling very cold; other than that, he was unable to gather any of his thoughts, they just kept slipping away –_

_Why was he in bed, shouldn’t he be studying –_

_He tried to get up but couldn’t remember what for, any anyway, suddenly there were hands guiding him back into a lying position –_

_What? Was someone there? But of course, someone was there, Mum and Dad always took care of –_

No, no, they don’t take care of you anymore, they don’t know who you are, you were useless, too weak to protect your own family or save yourself –

 _Buts there were the hands again, were they cold? Shouldn’t they be warm, especially because Dev was feeling so very_ very _cold –_

Listen to you, Dev, no one really calls you Dev anymore, do they, you haven’t even managed to make one friend, maybe that’s why they forgot so easily, no one cares, no one ever cared, why should they have loved you, you were the cuckoo in the nest, the one Mum had to take in like a stray cat, you heard so many things said behind your back over the years, even that one boy in Joanie’s class –

_“You need to calm down” a voice said. He thought the voice probably belonged to the hands, and if they were here together to look after him, certainly he should recognized it –_

_But it sounded weird, for a reason he couldn’t understand –_

_It was just_ weird _, he knew that, clung to it because it was one of the few things that he was still certain of, everything else kept shifting, changing, turning, make it stop –_

_“You really need to stop trashing.”_

_Who talked like that to someone who was sick, because he was, wasn’t he, he was ill, he had been ill for some time, nothing else made sense –_

_Dad, Dad talked like that sometimes when something was seriously wrong with one of them and he didn’t want to let them know how worried he was –_

_“Dad?” he called out but there was no answer._ Of course not, they don’t know about you, they don’t _care_ about you, you are _nothing_ to them like to everyone else –

_“Mum” he sobbed “Dad, please, I’m sorry, whatever I did, I want to go back home, let me come back –“_

The spell, you idiot, they can’t let you come home, and even if they knew, why would they, why would anyone want you around…

_He cried some more, hopelessly, uselessly, pointlessly._

_And suddenly there were tentative fingers in his hair, stroking his head, like Mum used to –_

_But what was –_

_And then someone, the voice, started singing, words he couldn’t understand, maybe he just didn’t get words anymore, maybe he was slowly losing it –_

_No, that was a foreign language, wasn’t it, but unlike any he had ever heard before –_

_And somehow, it stilled the torrent of self-loathing and accusations that had been all he could hear in the mess that his mind had become. And then, the song gently soothed him to sleep._

* * *

_He didn’t know how much later he woke up again, but it felt like he had been asleep for a long time. He could breathe easier, and he didn’t feel cold anymore._

_No, he was actually comfortable, how had that happened –_

Dad? Mum? No; they still didn’t know.

_He wondered if him dying would have lifted the spell, but then, they would have been sad, and he didn’t want them to be said –_

_“You’re doing much better”. The voice again, the same voice from before, he was sure._

_He would have liked to see who it belonged too, but his eyelids were still so heavy, and he really didn’t want to move now that everything was so warm and cosy –_

_“The doctor said you should be well again within a few days. This was rather foolish of you, Endeavour.”_

_Not the best bedside manner, but when things looked rough, neither had Dad, at least not at first, not until the worry gave way to his more tender feelings –_

_“Still, it is a relief to see you on the mend”._

_Only they didn’t sound worried, did they…_

_“Here” Something he correctly identified as a glass was put up to his lips. “This should help.”_

_He obediently drank (wait, what if it’s poison, but why should anyone poison him, it wasn’t like the Army knew where he was). It must have been some kind of potion, for sleep almost immediately claimed him again._

* * *

_When he next woke up, it was to find a nurse next to his bed._

_“Oh, good morning” she said brightly, in a voice that proved she wasn’t the one who’d been around before. “Back with us, Mr. Morse?”_

_“Yes, thank you” he said, still sounding a little raspy._

_She clicked her tongue. “Really, that was almost pneumonia. You should talk better care of yourself…” she stopped talking when she saw his expression; undoubtedly he’d given away how much she reminded him of Mum. “But well that’s for later. Now let’s get you back up to perfect health, hm?”_

_He nodded and leaned back, closing his eyes. He wondered about the voice; a fleeting suspicion touched his mind, but the thought alone was so preposterous he dozed off again with a smile on his face._

_And as he did so, a shadow stool out of the college, a shadow who had made it very clear to everyone who knew of their presence that it was to be concealed, a shadow whose heart was beating more wildly than they could ever remember._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise we will eventually get to the plot again instead of just character stuff. Woops. I just really like my flashbacks.


	15. Have Suck'd Up From The Sea Contagious Fogs

Win had put her foot down, and so Dev was still asleep like the rest of the family _for once_ when she got up. She still checked on all the children, of course, her gaze lingering on the curls that were all that was visible of her boy, as he had again buried himself deeply into the duvet.

Lost years, she thought. She wondered what he’d looked like in his twenties, unsure of the world but desperate to prove himself to it; oh, there were pictures, of course, but they never gave a full impression, did they, they were just moments, frozen in time…

He must have been ill, she suddenly thought. No one stayed completely healthy forever. Who had nursed him, who had looked after him, and why did she hate that person, as much as she could hate anyone, because they had done for her child what she should have been able to?

Her thoughts made her feel ashamed.

So instead, she went to make breakfast.

* * *

By the time Dev came into the kitchen, the others were halfway through with their breakfast.

His mind still foggy with sleep, he blinked at her. “Mum, you should have woken me up –“

“That would definitely have defeated the purpose, dear. And now sit down.”

“But the Guard –“

“Peter called about ten minutes ago, they have everything under control.”

Dev looked at her, at the table, the others, and correctly decided that there was nothing else he could do but have breakfast.

How many home-cooked meals had he had in the last fifteen years anyway? Granted, he knew his way around the kitchen – all her children did, she’d made sure of that – but who had cooked for him?

Win wished she could let it go, but found herself unable to.

* * *

“Alright, so maybe we should –“

“Perhaps we should start again at the beginning, son” Fred interrupted him. He had been pondering their problem for a while now, and he usually found it bes to do just that.

“You might be right. Let’s go to headquarters, then –“

Peter picked them up, of course, once more failing to dodge Win as she handed him a sandwich with a soft smile.

“So you mean the brawl in the street?” Dev asked as they sped towards their destination.

“Well, that’s where it all began, isn’t it?” Joan asked. “What if there was…” she trailed off.

“Go on Joanie, right now we can need all the help we can get” Dev said.

“It’s maybe just a silly little idea, but what if… well… maybe not all of those who were fighting were affected or victims. Maybe they were involved, somehow” she said.

Dev made a thoughtful noise.

* * *

“Alright” he declared once they were in the squad room – or at least the headquarters’ version of it, which Fred had soon learned meant there were quite a few magical appliances and now and then the atmosphere became volatile if one didn’t pay attention, since there were so many magic users and creatures around at all times, but at this point, he was just used to it – “We need to start again at the beginning.”

No murmurs, no complaints; Fred noticed; a simple, if polite order from the Captain. And no one disagreed, least of all Peter, who was once more at Dev’s side.

“So. A suggestion has been made that maybe we should look closer into who was involved in the fight again. Right now, I am frankly ready to try anything” the man he’d just been contemplating now said.

“Good. Well. I think we should concentrate on those who actively started fighting others, rather than those who were caught up in it” Dev began. “Any suggestions?”

“First of all there would be Mr. Cranmer” Sally Ford began, as always one of the first to rise to the challenge.

“Hardly think that wet sponge could harm anyone.”

“Peter.”

“Just saying, sir” he said innocently.

“Maybe we’re seeing this from the wrong angle” Fred suddenly realized.

“What do you mean, Dad?”

He stepped up to the blackboard, letting the instincts he had grown through decades of coppering run wild. “What if this was never supposed to be malicious?”

“Hell of a job they did, then” Peter muttered.

“What do you mean –“ Dev began.

“No, no, Inspector Thursday is right” Foster fell in. “Releasing emotions that have been pent up – yes, it is a risk, and it hurts, but it can be surprisingly healing, too. Just think of the rows many couples tend to have every so often.”

Fred had actually been thinking of something quite different – the beginning, right after they had gotten Endeavour back. Everything had been so raw, then; as fragile as the music he played in the morning and evenings, as vulnerable as a butterfly’s wings. There had been award silences and confused shuffling around as they became used to being a family again. But Foster was right; it had hurt and been complicated and a lot of work, but it had been worth it. They had become closer than ever.

Dev glanced at Peter; it wasn’t difficult to imagine what he was thinking of, but if anything, the commander appeared to be cooler than all of them combined. “So you are saying someone might have tried something, as a form of therapy?”

“It is a theory, sir” Haddon supplied.

“No, actually” and Dev turned to the board again, “It would make sense. This has always seemed… out of control, right from the beginning, but never _truly_ malicious; things would be much worse then. If someone meant well, but couldn’t quite control what they were doing –“

He fell silent, but Fred sadly paid no attention as he came to stand beside his son. “Alright. So. Someone was trying to do their best, making themselves feel better, or maybe someone else, yes, helping someone else, maybe trying to _look after someone else_ …”

And then his blood froze in his veins as Dev looked at him with an expression of disgust he had only once seen on his face before – when they had been talking about the Army of Morality – and spat “And you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, _sir_?”

**Seven months ago**

_It was on a rather unremarkably Tuesday when Fred finally found the words._

_Miss Frazil had been quizzing them about their latest case, Dev evading her questions with sparkling eyes and a smile on his lips he wore more and more often, these days._

_Eventually, she sighed. “It’s like pulling teeth. I assume I have you to thank for that, Inspector; it’s clear where he learned it from.”_

_She might have been looking at Fred, but he had Dev in his line of vision, and he saw his face fall._

_Because he hadn’t learned it from him, had he. He hadn’t been able to. He had been far away in London, studying, making his own way into the world, and whatever savviness with regards to reporters he’d picked up had been due to experience, or maybe the Chairman, but not Fred, who had not even known that his oldest was out there, all alone._

_He swallowed and politely showed Miss Frazil the door._

* * *

_The others seemed to sense that they needed some time alone; even Peter declined their invitation to accompany them to the pub._

_“Not exactly subtle, are they” Dev sighed once they were seated._

_“They care about you, son. We all do”._

_He was silent as they unpacked their sandwiches, then he quietly began, “It’s almost worse when I remember that I don’t have to pretend anymore.”_

_“Dev?”_

_“When I – when I think that I’m still just your bagman, like I do sometimes in the morning when I wake up, or when I’m really tired – then the worst has already happened, hasn’t it, but there’s a chance everything might turn out well. But once I remember, I – I could lose all of this again, I could lose_ you _again –“_

_“No. The Army has been disbanded. You did it yourself, remember?”_

_“And that is the only way to lose someone? A car accident. Mum slipping in the kitchen. Joan walking home alone at night. You jumping in front of a bullet… There’s so much that could happen, Dad.”_

_“And we’re still here. We’ll always be there, even if not in person. Dev, you’re never going to lose us again. And I don’t mind if you slip up; I really, truly don’t. So what if you call me sir, or Joanie Miss” she had told him a few days ago, her eyes shining with tears, but proud and defiant, because this was their girl they were talking about “now and then. Doesn’t change a thing. So it hurts. Big deal. Living hurts, that’s how it is. But in the end, you’ll have us to come home to no matter what.”_

_Dev was clutching his sandwich hard enough to dent it, staring at the table. Then, finally, quietly, he said, “Thank you, Dad.”_

_“You don’t have to thank me. I made a promise when you were born, just like Mum did. We swore we’d always look after our own, and we will.”_

_Dev reached out; Fred happily took his hand. “And for what it’s worth… the amount of times you looked out for me while you were my bagman tell a story of their own, son.”_

_Finally, Dev was smiling again, and at the moment, that was all that mattered._

* * *

_The second they entered the squad room, Peter shot them a look, assessed that everything was fine, and went back to work. Dev winked at Fred as he walked back to his own desk._

_Fred went to see Superintendent Bright._

_“I heard that there was some kind of… scene as Miss Frazil dropped by” he began carefully, once more proving that he had his eyes and ears everywhere in the station._

_“Nothing to worry about, sir, we handled it.”_

_They had indeed. He hoped he had finally got through to Dev, but even if he hadn’t, it didn’t matter; he would try again and again for as long as he lived, if need be._

_“So… everything is alright, then? The dust is settling, so to speak?”_

_There would have been a time when he would have thought his boss was just being nosy, but he knew him better now, and recognized it for the honest concern it was. “Yes, thank you, sir. We’re all getting used to the new status quo – or rather the old one.”_

_“And – Sergeant Thursday – he’s doing well?”_

_“As well as can be expected. Of course he’s not – well, it’s not always easy, and sometimes, there are moments… He called me_ sir _a couple of weeks ago.”_

_The superintendent nodded. “Used to it, I expect.”_

_“Exactly, sir. And now and then, he still acts like a stranger in his own home. But mostly, things have been… good.” Rather bloody wonderful, in fact, but he wasn’t about to tell his superior officer that._

_“I can imagine”. His eyes softened. “It is terrible to lose a child, and rather rare that you have a chance to get them back.”_

_Of course. His daughter. “We’re all thanking every god we can think of. And of course Endeavour did a brilliant job over the years.”_

_“He really did, didn’t he? The Council has been in touch regarding a closer affiliation between the police and the Guard. It seems they are quite up to our standards – even surpassing them a bit, to be honest. And I have been given to understand that it will be considered a gesture of good will that every courtesy is extended towards the Captain. Quite fond of him, they appear to be.”_

_Fred wasn’t sure that_ fond _was the right word, but really, he didn’t mind. His son had built up a magical police force all on his own. He was too proud to care. “I dare say so, sir.”_

_“Well, Thursday, that will be all. I am glad everything is fine.”_

_And, despite everything, despite his own child not having a chance to come back, Fred could tell he really meant it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger. Also, comments please? :)


	16. Now Thou And I Am New In Amity

_Oh God, no._

Peter could only stare in horror as his best friend kept studying his father, a look of pure fury on his face.

_No. Don’t let this happen. If they say things, if they hurt each other… and DI Thursday is prone to explode on his good days._

And then he too, felt a surge of anger, but it wasn’t due to any repressed feelings.

_How dare they. How dare anyone target Dev again. Hasn’t he been through enough?_

Then he reminded himself of his duty. When the Captain was indisposed, it was up to the Commander to lead the Guard, and Dev would expect exactly that of him. He tried reaching out to him, but their bond was temporarily (he hoped, good God, he bloody _hoped_ ) blocked.

Telling himself not to panic waved at Ford, Foster and Haddon; they were their most reliable officers and could be counted on if Dev ( _God forbid, no_ ) raised his hand or his powers against his father ( _he would never forgive himself, no he wouldn’t_ ).

Sadly, they weren’t quick enough to stop Dev from talking.

* * *

“Helping someone out – that’s what you were trying to do, weren’t you?” his son spat as Fred could only stand there, completely helpless. “When you welcomed me into what was actually my home, thinking it was such a _nice_ thing to do, that I would be so _thankful_. Well, I wasn’t. I can tell you that. Do you have any idea how it felt, to have Mum fuss over me once more, only she never meant it as she should have? Or to listen to your lectures about self-care and how I should mind how I went? Oh, you were so _very_ concerned for your bagman, weren’t you? Probably talked about it after dinner. _Poor Morse, he’s all alone, he needs someone to look after him_ – yes, well, that should have been your job. But you weren’t there for _fifteen whole years_.”

The worst part of it was that he was right. Fred and Win had sometimes talked about Morse, what they could do to help, always mindful of the distance between them, of course, it wasn’t like they were blood-related…

How they haunted him, sometimes, the three years in which their boy had been forced to pretend.

“But not that any of this matters now, does it?” he continued sardonically. “Everything’s fine, spell’s been lifted, not like anything _happened_. Oh, I lost my home and everything I love for a while, but who cares, welcome back, son, let’s just pretend you’ve always been there.”

He had never blamed them, never spoken like this to Fred – and of course he didn’t mean it now _(although are you so sure about that_ , something in him pointed out, _anyone would have the right to be angry_ ). But it still hurt.

And when Fred Thursday got hurt, he lashed out. He could already feel anger building up inside, anger at whoever was making Dev say this, anger at himself for having to hear it, anger that the other members of the Guard were there to witness this scene.

But. But. _But_. If he started screaming, if he exploded now, they might both say things they could never take back, could never recover from, and he refused, after everything they had been through, to let this be the end of them as the father and son they had only just got used to being again.

He remembered what Win had told him about Dev’s terrible twos once, how she had been able to calm him down even during the most awful tantrums, and he quickly swept him up in a tight hug.

“It’s alright, son” he muttered into his boy’s hair, “You can just let it all out. Keep yelling if it’ll make you feel better, but I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not getting angry at you. You are _right_. I wasn’t there for so long. But now I am, and I am never leaving again, if I can help it.”

* * *

Peter would never know how he’d done it – how DI Thursday had managed to reign in his temper and take Dev into his arms – but almost immediately he could tell that it was starting to work.

Dev was blinking, clearly confused as to what had just happened.

_Hah. Take that. The Captain is already fighting this influence because that’s what he does. He weas never truly angry at his father, only at the Army, and you can’t make him experience anger he doesn’t completely understand for long. He’s too powerful and experienced for that._

Peter turned and found that Lieutenant Ford had already begun herding the others out of the squad room. He nodded at her, grateful that she had taken the initiative.

He wondered if he should perhaps leave too, but he’d always stood by Dev and he wasn’t about to stop any time soon.

* * *

His thoughts came back to him slowly. One moment, they had been discussing the case, and in the next, he’d felt all the fury he probably _should_ have experienced at one point or another as to what the Army had done to him.

And then – oh God, he’d shouted. At Dad. _He’d shouted at Dad._

The Dad who was now hugging him to his breast. He wriggled a little bit “Oh God, I am so sorry, Dad, I didn’t mean –“

“I know that, son, just breathe.”

He did, breathing in the familiar scents of tobacco and the washing powder Mum used on their shirts he’d known since his childhood. And finally, the last of the fury left him, leaving him admittedly somewhat shaken but still coherent.

“I –“ he finally pulled back (or rather, Dad finally let him go) and looked at Peter. “The others?”

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant Ford is making sure everything’s running perfectly.”

“Thank you” he said, taking a deep breath. “It’s getting stronger. I don’t actually feel any of that nonsense I was sprouting”. When he saw Dad’s sceptical glance, he said, “I mean it. Otherwise I’d not moved back home, would I?”

Dad relaxed and left them soon afterwards, after Dev had promised they would meet up for lunch and not to overdo it.

Maybe, he reflected, some time apart was just what they needed right now. 

**Eight months ago**

_Joan stole downstairs quietly, as to not disturb Dev’s playing. It didn’t sound quite as immaculate as she remembered from her younger days, but after fifteen years, that was only to be expected._

_She stood there, listening to him, suddenly very aware that they were about to be alone for the first time since she had remembered._

_God, what must he have been through? Especially during those times when she –_

_Nausea rose up into her throat as she remembered her flirting with him –_ flirting _, with her brother, trying to get a kiss – but she resolutely fought it down. The last thing she wanted was to make Dev think he was causing her to suffer._

_Like he had suffered. For fifteen long years._

_She shuddered but decided to grab the bull by the horns and entered the living room._

_He, as had always been his habit, ended the piece – a Chopin nocturne, she suddenly remembered – and turned to look at her. To her dismay, there were tears in his eyes. “Good morning, Joanie.”_

_“Hey, Devy.”_

_He smiled at her, then gestured towards his piano. “Not as perfect as I’d like it to be…”_

_“Sounded pretty good to me” she said immediately._

_In fact, it had been bloody brilliant to hear her brother play again._

_His smile widened just a little bit, but it was enough for her._

_She held out the copy of Hardy’s poems she’d snagged while walking past his and Sam’s room. “Will you read to me?”_

_He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d mastered the alphabet by now.”_

_“You know me, always the lazy one” she grinned. “Come on, Devy.”_

_It had usually worked when they were children, and it did so now. He sighed theatrically and got up. “I was going to set the table –“_

_“Dev, Mum isn’t going to allow you to do any chores for at least another month, and you know it.”_

_He’d returned a week ago and if she could have, she’d probably have fed him as if he were still a little boy._

_He sighed again, but was still smiling. “Fine. Which poem would you like to hear?”_

_Despite her tendency to sleep in, she found she was rather glad that this morning, they were on their own._

* * *

_Win hadn’t meant to sleep so long on this fine Saturday morning; she only hoped that Dev hadn’t started breakfast, he definitely deserved to be spoiled a little…_

_As shed came down, however, she heard his voice, and words she somewhat recognized,_

“And yet I'll not try to blot out every memory of thee;

I'll think of thee — yes, now and then:

One who's watched thee since Time called thee out o' thy mother and me

Must think of thee; aye, I know when! . . .”

_Oh. Hardy, if she remembered correctly. Guessing what was going on, she threw a glance into the room and found Dev reading to Joan, who was watching him as intently as she had back when she was too young to even fully grasp what he was doing._

_She smiled to herself and went on to make breakfast._

_Fred was the last one down. “Morning, pet. The children?”_

_“In the living room” she replied, kissing him, “Dev’s reading to Joan.”_

_“That didn’t take long”._

_“You know they’ve always loved it” she replied as Fred started setting the table without her having to ask him to do so._

_Yes, they always had, and knowing that this too had been taken from them for so long still bothered Win. Bout she couldn’t focus on that; they had him back, and that was what mattered._

_At least she told herself so._

_And so, when she called out and the children came into the kitchen, she made herself smile at them and enjoy the fact that her family was together again._

* * *

_Dev was playing the piano again while Win and Fred were cleaning up after their meal._

_“Does one good to hear his music again” Fred observed._

_It really did, so Win just smiled._

_“I think the entire Guard is doing their best to ensure he comes home at a reasonable time” he confided in her. “At least yesterday Lieutenant Ford showed up at the station to report that everything had been going smoothly and that he didn’t have to drop by.”_

_Good, honourable people, Win thought. She hadn’t had the time to get to know any of them yet, but she was certain that whoever Dev had picked to help police creatures and magic users, they had to be trustworthy and competent. “It’s nice of them.”_

_“I think they are genuinely fond of him” Fred said, making her feel even better. “You can tell, you know.”_

_“And of course there’s Peter.” Win didn’t quite understand their connection – the bond Dev had told them about – but she knew that he’d been a friend to her son when he had very much needed one, and couldn’t wait to get to know him better._

_Fred nodded. “Should have seen how they discussed one of their cases yesterday. I swear they barely even used words. Almost telepathic, really. Strange was hopelessly lost.”_

_Win had found that she actually quite liked the hat stand rule being abandoned. She knew that cases sometimes put a strain on Fred – and Dev too, of course – and now she could comfort them._

_It also helped Joan (as it would undoubtedly Sam, once he came home) reconnect with her brother, and that was all she could ask for._

_The music stopped, only for laughter to replace it, making her smile. God alone knew what she had been doing in there to get him confused while playing._

_“Sounds like Joanie pranked him again” Fred said._

_“Oh, hush, love, they’re having fun.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had been looking forward to that scene between Dev and Thursday since I started writing this. Also, I have been going through some anxiety lately, so please leave a comment? :)


	17. To You Your Father Should Be As A God

Fred wasn’t quite sure this was the right thing to do, but he had learned a few things over the past year, and he felt positive that if he didn’t act, either someone else would, or the person in question would find out anyway, and then there would be hell to pay. So here he was.

“Inspector, you can’t just –“

He ignored the secretary and went into the Chairman’s office.

He was busy talking to Councilwoman Robbins, and seemed rather put out at Fred’s sudden appearance. “DI Thursday, what is the –“

“It affected Endeavour” he rushed out.

The Chairman stared at him, then his eyes flashed white for the first time since the day the spell had been lifted. “Councilwoman, would you excuse us?”

“Of course” she immediately agreed, proving she knew him rather well, and actually giving Fred a reassuring smile as she left.

“Tell me everything.”

It was an order, but Fred couldn’t bring himself to care as he explained what had happened.

Only when the Chairman relaxed his tight grip on his pen as he came to the end did he realize that he had been prepared, almost ready to strike, if Fred had made a mistake, if he’d bitten back. It should have scared him – he was rather sure not even Dev knew how powerful the Chairman was – but didn’t.

“And you say he is no longer affected? No repercussions?”

“None, other than he was feeling slightly embarrassed because it happened in front of the Guard.”

“The members of the Guard know better than to disrespect their captain” he said with the conviction of someone who would have anyone who dared do so hanged, drawn and quartered.

“Yes. I do believe so. However, he also said this meant whatever is going on is growing stronger.”

“He’s normally right about things like that” the Chairman said. “Thank you for the news, Inspector. It’s certainly… food for thought”. He frowned. “Let us hope for no repeat of such a scene.”

That, Fred could easily agree with. He couldn’t imagine what distress it would have caused Win to be a witness to something like this.

“The thing is, Inspector…” the Chairman, to his surprise, hesitated. “There is something Dev should know.”

A pause.

“Tell him – tell him there are some things – let’s call them people – I cannot interfere with, and that may explain a few things”.

Small wonder he had hesitated. He probably hated to admit any weakness.

But really, Fred thought angrily as he made his way back to his son, he could have been a little bit more specific.

* * *

Dev had repaired to his office in order to gather his thoughts.

God. He was very careful not to lose his temper on a good day, and having screamed at Dad…

Thank God he’d been able to keep his cool. Dev wasn’t sure he could have, under the circumstances.

Peter knocked on the connecting door and brought him a thoroughly needed cup of tea. “How are you? And don’t say _fine_.”

“Dealing?”

“Better” he said satisfied, while sitting down across from him with his own drink. Then, he suddenly grew serious. “He won’t blame you, you know.”

“I did shout at him in front of Guard… and what I said… and they were terribly things.”

“Dev, he loves you. They all do. Even if he were angry, which he is not, he would forgive you almost immediately.”

“I guess” he rubbed his face with his hand. “Sometimes I still forget –“ he broke off when he realized he had no idea how to finish the sentence. _How much I mean to them? That they do, indeed, remember? That I ever got them back in the first place?_

Peter simply nodded.

Sometimes Dev thought he understood him almost too well. “I just wish this hadn’t happened.” He forced out a laugh. “Guess I considered myself immune. A lesson in hubris, right there.”

How often had he learned that particular one now, anyway? Trouble was, ever since he had built up the Guard, it was an easy mistake to make.

“Nothing happened though” Peter comforted him. “Everything’s fine.”

“Yes, but we can’t allow this to continue. It’s only a matter of time before something bad happens, and you know it.” He hesitated for a moment. “Peter…”

It had troubled him for a while now.

“Yes?”

“No offense, but… why aren’t you being affected?” he asked bluntly.

And to his surprise, Peter actually laughed. “Dear God, Dev, that’s your biggest concern now?”

“At the moment? Yes.”

He grew serious. “I’ve – at the beginning, I wondered. I won’t deny I was worried. But I think… Dev, what I’ve lived through – things were bad. Really bad. You’re probably the only one who knows how bad. And this influence… it finds hidden or buried emotions and amplifies them. What is there that I haven’t been through already? And I’m not alone anymore, especially not now.”

Dev studied him. It was probably the one thing about Peter he would never get – their childhoods had been too drastically different; but he knew him well enough to feel certain that he wouldn’t lie to him about something like this. “Alright. Let’s solve this, then.”

* * *

Win had been having her lunch sandwich when Fred called her. “What is it, love?” she asked immediately, having heard _something_ in his voice…

“Dev got affected” he said immediately, having learned early on in their courtship that she preferred to be told the truth, rather than a lie that won’t hurt.

“Oh my God” she breathed. _No_. Hadn’t her boy been through enough?

“He’s fine, he’s fine again” he rushed out. “He – he said some things, shouted them at me. About us forgetting him. But he didn’t mean them.”

Of course he didn’t. Dev didn’t blame them, she knew that, had known since the day she had rushed from home to pull him into her arms once more,. “Oh Fred.”

“I know. I hugged him and he calmed down.”

Their children had always been one of the few people who could prevent one of Fred’s explosions, and she found herself doubly grateful for that now. “He will feel so bad about it” she fretted because this was the kind of person that Dev was, plain and simple.

“Yes, pet, I don’t think we’ll prevent that.”

“I’ll call him. I’ll call him right now.”

And she did so once she had told Fred she loved him and hung up.

Thankfully, he was in his office. “Captain Endeavour Thurs – “

“Oh Dev”.

“He told you?”

“Of course he did! How are you, dear?”

“I’m – it’s alright. I – it was an unpleasant scene, but it is over.”

What did that matter? So were the fifteen years in which they hadn’t known who he was, and yet they still had nightmares. “Oh Dev” she repeated, “You have to come home quite punctually for dinner tonight, and no fretting about the case. Promise me.”

“But Mum, we have to stop this –“

“And you alone running yourself into the ground won’t make a difference, sweetheart, you know that.”

“I – “ he broke off, obviously frustrated, and took a deep breath.” Yes. I do. I promise. Love you, Mum.”

“I love you too, Devy.”

As she hung up the phone, all she could think of was that, if she had truly had those fifteen ears with her son, he wouldn’t be suffering now.

**Three years and eight months ago**

_As of now, he had only seen small glimpses of Dad, and thankfully, it wasn’t to be expected that they would have much contact, since he was only a constable._

_Dev decided it was best not to dwell too much on being back in Oxford, being back home and yet in a sense being further from it than he had ever been._

_Instead, he took a look at the Mary Tremlett file._

_Almost immediately, the alarm bells started ringing. A girl telling her family that she would be meeting up with a friend but doing something else instead was hardly something new, but they usually took care to return before their lie could be discovered._

_He suddenly wondered if Joan had ever done something like this, in the teen years he’d missed out on. And if he hadn’t… would he have been her alibi, perhaps? Would she have relied on him to make certain that Mum and Dad suspected nothing? That she would have taken him into her confidence, he couldn’t doubt. Maybe he would have had to convince her not to go through with it, on occasion…_

Stop it, _he told himself as he had been taught by the lonely years where he’d been studying in London._ This will lead to nothing. You’ll just be unable to work. And then where will you be? The Chairman is going to replace you faster than you can blink, and you know it.

_Alright, maybe he wasn’t quite as convinced about the last point as he would have liked to be; but that way lay madness, as well._

_And then a voice, a voice he knew almost as well as his own, a voice he had memories of reading to him for hours, interrupted his thoughts._

_“There's no overtime”._

_He raised his head to properly look at Dad for the first time in over a decade._

_“I realise that, sir” he replied._

_“So what is it, brown-nosing or sucker for punishment? There's no other kind of bloody fool still in the office at this time of night.”_

Be calm. Be professional. Keep it short.

_And so he tried to do just that._

_He still breathed a sigh of relief when Dad had left. God._

_He would never get used to see no recognition in his eyes, no memories of chasing the monsters away for him when he had been a boy._

_But still, he reasoned, all he had to do was keep his head down. So DI Thursday had noticed a lonely constable and decided to ask what he was still doing at the station. That was normal. Exactly what anyone would have expected of him._

_No, there would be no further or closer association between them. And everything would be easy._

_And then things got complicated._

_“Morse can pick me up.”_

_Every time Dad referred to him as such, a shiver ran down his spine. He had made himself get used to people calling him the name in his early twenties, it was true, but this was_ Dad _, and it didn’t make picking him up from his true home – a house he had carefully avoided until now, although everything in him had called out to rush there as soon as he set foot into Oxford – any easier._

_“Now, Friday, must be corned beef.”_

I know. I know the schedule. One sandwich, every weekday during my school years. Usually accompanied by a hug and her fixing my collar afterwards so I’d look proper, because that’s just how Mum is.

_I know._

Focus. Breathe. The case.

_He tried to distance himself a bit by visiting Mary’s family on his own, but disentangling himself from Dad went about as well as he should have expected._

_Maybe, he thought during the case, there was something that told Dad to come running after him. Maybe, deep inside him, so deep that he didn’t even know about it, there was –_

No. Don’t hope. Never hope. You’ll just get hurt.

The case. Solve the case.

_And so that was what he focused on, until it was time to return to London._

* * *

_“The question is, where do you see yourself in twenty years?”_

_Dev wasn’t really paying attention to Dad; he was looking into the rear-view mirror, his own eyes staring back at him._

My birthmother’s colouring. Her hair. Her eyes. A constant reminder. And yet neither Mum nor Dad ever made any difference on how they treated us, and Joan and Sam never cared that I didn’t look like them –

_“Morse!”_

_He jumped and started the car._

* * *

_Peter took a drag of his cigarette (he had been reducing them for some time now, but upon hearing the news, he’d claimed he needed one). “Dear Lord.”_

_“I know”. Dev stared into his tea. After conferring with the Chairman, he had found Peter and they had returned to their shared flat._

_“For what it’s worth, that he trusts you should make this whole extending the Guard into Oxford business easier” Peter offered, and he almost laughed._ Easier _. Indeed._

_And yet, despite everything –_

_“It was… good” he admitted quietly. “Seeing him again. Speaking to him. Even if he has no idea who I am. I just have to be careful not to slip up.”_

_“Well, it’s not like he’ll invite you to dinner or as if you have to meet the rest of the family or anything” Peter pointed out, with perhaps more honesty than tact. “And we’ve mastered many a storm by now.”_

_That may be true, but Peter would be in Lon-_

_“I’ll be the superior officer for a change, of course, since I am older than you.”_

_Wait, What? “Peter, what are you talking about?”_

_“I’ll go with you.”_

_“You’re not coming. The Chairman wants you to –“_

_“Yes I am, and I do not bloody care what he wants. My captain needs me, so I’ll go where he goes.”_

_He felt himself soften before he’d even had the chance to properly object. “Thank you, peter.”_

_“Not for something like this, Dev. Never for something like this.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie, friends - I am going through a bit of something at the moment, so I apologize if this isn't coherent.


	18. Love Can Transpose To Form And Dignity

By the time Fred arrived at his office, Dev seemed to have completely recovered, and despite having expected him to do so, he felt relieved.

Fifteen years of not knowing his own son had left their traces, after all. He couldn’t help but worrying. “I spoke to the Chairman.”

“Why?”

He truth was, _he_ still didn’t quite know why, just that it had seemed like the right thing to do. “He told me to tell you something…”

By now, Peter had of course joined them. “Never can resist the urge to be dramatic, can he.”

Dev was frowning. “What could he possibly mean? “ _People – I cannot interfere with, and that may explain a few things”_. Doesn’t seem like it does to me –“

“Dev” Peter suddenly sighed, “You may be the cleverest man I ever met, but sometimes, you’re _incredibly_ stupid.”

“What –“

“Why do you think I had to do all the heavy lifting when it came to Mnemosyne? The Chairman only gave me advice, but that was it.”

“So? That’s what he usually does”.

“Dev” he groaned once more, and Fred thought of the expression on the Chairman’s face as he had seen the pictures of Dev on their mantelpiece, the day he had returned to them.

The penny dropped. “If he could have come with you, he would have.”

“Exactly. If there had been any way –“

“Now, wait a minute” Dev interrupted Peter, looking puzzled. “I admit I am useful to the Chairman, and that he has been dropping certain hints as to what’s to come, but… I think you are vastly overstating my importance.”

Peter looked at him as if he had grown two heads (which, Fred supposed, could actually happen, now that he knew about magic.) “What are you _talking_ about?”

Now it was Dev who sighed. “Peter, I know we are close, but the Chairman is not even human –“

“Doesn’t seem to matter, son” he decided to defuse the situation. “Trust an old hand on… well, trust me on this.”

He looked sceptical, but seemed to decide that since they had nothing else to go on, they might as well try it. “Alright. Mnemosyne and Lethe were ancient goddesses. Saying we are dealing with something similar… any ideas as to who?”

But sadly, neither Fred nor Peter could come up with an answer to that particular riddle.

* * *

Win was making her rounds again, having decided she might as well do something useful instead of fretting over her boy.

She had just visited the St Justina orphanage and was on her way to the nearest soup kitchen when a voice called out her name and she saw Mr. Badcodger walk up to her. “Hello, Mrs. Thursday.”

“Mr. Badcodger. I thought all accommodation was –“

“Don’t worry, I am just taking a walk” he told her. “Not used to staying indoors for so long, you know.”

Plus, she reasoned, with his new clothes thanks to charity, people wouldn’t look at him and automatically assume that he was homeless.

“As a matter of fact” his voice dropped. “I was looking for you, Mrs. Thursday. Can we talk?”

Assuming that he wanted to ask a favour – and she was not averse to granting it, as long as it was reasonable – she acquiesced and they sat down on a bench in the park across the street.

He looked at the their surroundings and smiled. “Never gets old, does it? Nature.”

“Beautiful” she agreed, glancing at a narcist nearby . However, there were things she had to do, so she was about to ask when he spoke.

“You may have guessed that – well, Mrs. Thursday, I am not exactly human.”

It didn’t surprise her; since remembering she had grown used to all sorts of creatures and magic users, many of them friends and acquaintances of their oldest, and so she simply nodded.

“And you have been very kind to me. I can say this about precious few people in the last few years…”

“It really was nothing…”

“What I mean” he said, startling her into a shocked silence, “is, I am reasonably certain I can give you those fifteen years back.”

“I – “ she stammered. “ What –“

“Those fifteen years with your son. With Endeavour. I can give them back to you. You would have watched him grow into a man, the wonderful man he is today.”

She stared. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? But Mr Badcodger spoke with such frankness; such openness –

What if. What if all of them had simply overlooked something, a simple solution, people did that because well, people tended not to think of simple solutions, what if they could have been a family all this time…

She opened her mouth to say yes, to beg for him to try, only to remember something she’d learned.

How many magic spells had gone wrong, prompting Dev’s involvement? How many times there had been a _prize_ to pay for magic?

What if there was one here?

“I’d do it, simply for your kindness. No drawbacks, I promise”.

As if he’d read her thoughts.

And he looked so _honest_ as he said it, too.

She swallowed.

“Just say the word.”

The word, one word, and fifteen years of suffering for their boy would be swept away, would never have happened.

It really was too wonderful to be true.

Again, she almost said it, but she wasn’t the Captain’s mother for nothing. “What would happen to – all the other things? It wouldn’t just be a small change, wouldn’t it?”

“No, but magic has a way to protect itself and to rewrite reality, if need be. I promise you I would make sure everyone you love is safe.”

“I –“ still she hesitated.

“But I do understand that this is not a decision to be made lightly.”

What a bloody understatement, Fred would have said.

He got up. “Just think about it, Mrs. Thursday. My offer is still open.”

And then he was suddenly gone, his last words hanging in the air.

Think about it.

She already knew she would do little else all afternoon.

**Eight months ago**

_Win couldn’t help it; she was simply too curious; and so, about three weeks after the spell had been lifted, she asked Dev whether she should drop by the Guard headquarters so they could have lunch together that day._

_The twinkle in his eyes told her that he’d guessed she desperately wanted to see his office, but he said yes._

_As a matter of fact, he did more than that._

_At a quarter to twelve, the bell rang and she found someone who was very obviously a vampire standing on their doorstep; she recognized him as Sergeant Matthew Foster, one of those who’d helped Dev move back home. “Hello, Mrs. Thursday. I’m here to pick you up for lunch.”_

_Oh dear. “I didn’t know Dev would –“_

_“He didn’t. I volunteered” he beamed, then considered. “Well, actually, at least half of the Guard volunteered. I got lucky when we drew for it.”_

_That was how much they honoured their captain, Win thought proudly. “Let me just slip in my coat…”_

_“Of course, Mrs. Thursday.”_

_“It’s Win”._

_His face suggested that it was very much_ not _Win, but she told herself to fight one battle at a time._

* * *

_So far, she had only known the headquarters from Dev’s and Fred’s descriptions, but it turned out the building was light and airy, with huge windows and a proud sign declaring it to be GUARD over the door. The badge – she’d know it anywhere since she had studied carefully when Dev had first shown it to her on her request – hang next to it._

_Matthew escorted her to Dev’s office. Whatever room they moved in, everyone hastened to greet her politely, and she could only smile brightly. Whatever happened, her son had loyal co-workers._

_She knocked on the door as he excused himself; Dev immediately bade her enter._

_He was working on a file when she did so, but when he looked up and saw her, his face lit up as it had since he was a little boy. “Mum!” He got up. “I forgot the time.”_

_“It’s alright; that nice Sergeant Foster was kind enough to pick me up:”_

_“It was Sally who offered first because I mentioned to Peter in the squad room that you’d be coming; next thing I knew, everyone else who was there was doing the same –“_

_“They all think very highly of you” she told him proudly, looking around._

_Of course it had comfortable, if sturdy and dependable, furniture too; an entire wall was dedicated to bookshelves, and on the desk there was – “Oh that’s nice.”_

_Dev picked up the small glass cube and chuckled. “A present from the Chairman when we opened the headquarters. It’s a form of recording device, but I still prefer my notebooks. Apart from…” he trailed off, then held it out to her. “We’re close enough that it should be working for you, too.”_

_She realized what it did the second she touched it, her fingers lingering on those of her boy. A glowing circle appeared over the cube, with one of their family snapshots – she recognized it immediately; it had been taken after Fred returned from the war._

_“It’s not perfect, of course, since I used a spell to recreate it from memory.”_

_“Oh Dev” she asked quietly, “didn’t it hurt?”_

_Looking at those pictures and knowing they only existed in this cube for years must have._

_“That was the point” was all he admitted to._

_Somehow, she found it difficult to properly acknowledge that this was indeed Dev’s office, perhaps because the last thing close to one she remembered him having was the room he’d shared with Sam. “Looks very orderly” she pointed out, her eyebrows rising. It was a well-known fact that Dev tended to leave things lying around when hew as in a hurry._

_“Well, unsupervised magical devices could be potentially more dangerous than finding A Shropshire Lad behind the sofa cushions” he chuckled. “Let’s go.”_

_He led her to a pub not far from the headquarters called Dragon’s Lair. She assumed it was some form of joke._

_Or not._

_The barman hurried over as soon as he saw them.” Captain Thursday”! Nice of you to come.”_

_“Hello, George. This is my mother.”_

_He actually bowed to her. “Mrs. Thursday.”_

_“A dragon” Dev explained quietly as he led them to a table. “And a terrible flirt, I have to admit.”_

_She felt rather flattered._

* * *

_It quickly transpired that many were curious who Dev was having his lunch with, and Win realized something she had failed to do previously; that, as the Captain’s mother, she already had a standing in Oxford’s magical community, if for no other reason that they wanted to honour him by honouring her._

_“Your son helped me out greatly a few years back” a mavka told her, and Win smiled at her._

_“I can imagine.”_

_“It’s just my job” Dev mumbled looking down at his plate, flushing ever so slightly._

_Oh, how she remembered that look from him growing up. Her heart swelled with love and pride. “I’m surprised Peter didn’t come with us” she said once the mavka had left._

_Again, he only mumbled something._

_“Sorry, dear?”_

_“I – I asked him – well, I wanted to be alone with you, just today.”_

Oh Endeavour _. She reached out to squeeze his hand. “I understand. I like it better like this, too – at least the first time.”_

_He smiled, the innocent, radiant smile she had always loved so much, the one that not even the war or the last fifteen years had managed to dim._

* * *

_Apparently, she learned when it was time to go and she had hugged Dev with instructions not to come home too late that night, this time, it was Lieutenant Ford who had won the draw. She tried to tell her that she didn’t have to drive her as well, but she wouldn’t hear of it. “It’s no problem, really, Mrs. Thursday. And how would it look if we just let the Captain’s mother run around Oxford?”_

_“The headquarters seem very modem” she observed on the way home._

_“I understand that the Captain and the Commander looked for a while for the right type of building.”_

_And then they had made it their own. She really liked that her boy was spending his time in such a pleasant environment, even if he was running after magical miscreants._

_“We are all very glad things have changed back to what they were like, Mrs. Thursday, if I may say so. The Captain has never been happier.”_

_It probably was much easier to work for the Guard when their superior officer was in a good mood, and yet Win had the distinct feeling that she, like the rest of its members, meant it, and so she thanked her warmly as she exited the car after reaching home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words, I am doing better - just hit one of these blocks on the road that happen when you live your life. Also, I won't lie - I had been trying to get that cube thing into a scene FOREVER because I just love the idea and with Win, it finally made sense.


	19. I Have Foresworn His Bed And Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather big plot developments in this one, my friends. Enjoy!

“Alright, before – before this unpleasant scene, we were about to do something, and I still think we should; we need to start from the beginning“ Dev declared in the squad room. “The brawl. Does anyone have any ideas because, frankly, at this point I am ready to take anything.“

Peter well knew that this was more a figure of speech than anything else, since Dev had always made a point of listening to the other members of the Guard; but still…

He stole a glance at his best friend, who was scribbling something on the blackboard, so different from the vicious mask whatever this was had made him show his father.

Wait –

“You said it was getting worse, right?”

Dev turned to him. “Most definitely.”

“Well, then – coupled with the whole let’s star back at the beginning theory – shouldn’t we look at those who were affected _first_ but normally would be the _last_ person to strike out? You see, if only a small amount of the magic we are now experiencing made them lash out –“

“Then either they themselves or someone close to them would have to be the one responsible, or at least close to the one responsible” Sally finished. “I agree, Commander.”

“Alright” DI Thursday, once more forgetting that he wasn’t at Cowley station (and it wasn’t like anyone would remind him, Peter thought) said. “I know you interviewed everyone who was involved; let’s compare those notes.”

After some careful sifting through the facts, they soon realized there were really only two options.

“Alright, I’m for Cranmer” Peter decided. “That man would normally never act that way.”

But Dev was biting his lip. “I am not so sure.”

“Why? I mean, he’s –“

“But we said it might also be someone close to them” he pointed out. “And there’s someone in Mrs. Fairchild’s life who might have thought it a good idea to bring repressed feelings to the surface, if only to clear the air…”

It was DI Thursday who first realized, probably due to his years of experience as a married man. “Her husband.”

“You think he would use magic just to make good with his wife?” Peter asked somewhat incredulously and was treated to a look that clearly stated _Wait until you’ve been living with someone for twenty years, young man_. “Alright, let’s say it was him. But we don’t know for sure, so –“

“You are right, of course, Peter. We’ll check out both options.”

Dev assigned Ford, Haddon and Forster to Cranmer – rather obviously, to be honest – and then he and Peter were on their way, with DI Thursday in tow. How he figured it was necessary for him to accompany them, or how he would explain to Mr. Bright why he hadn’t been at the station, Peter had long since given up wondering about. There were some things you could only accept.

Halfway, Dev seemed to realize that this wasn’t quite a normal situation (and normal for them, which already told you enough, considering) and said, “Dad, you might want to stay in the –“

“Not leaving you out of my sight for a while, son, I’m afraid.”

Yes, they probably should have expected this.

* * *

Mrs. Fairchild eyes widened when she opened the door. “Captain – Commander – DI Thursday! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She had clearly not been the worse for the experience. Maybe it had done her good.

“Mrs. Fairchild; I’m sorry to disturb you, but we need to speak to your husband” Dev explained.

She appeared confused but soon led them into the living room and promised to fetch him from the garden.

As soon as Mr. Fairchild entered – apparently having persuaded his wife to stay behind – Peter knew Dev had been right once more.

The man had _guilty_ written all over his face.

To think they might have prevented all of this if they had just interviewed the family members in the first place –

Dev didn’t even get to ask a question. As soon as he looked into his eyes, he burst out “I didn’t mean this to happen!”

“So you cast a spell on your wife and didn’t expect any repercussions?” Dev asked, looking puzzled.

“I didn’t – I didn’t exactly place a spell on her!” He took a deep breath, then began to explain. “I – I don’t deny that I strayed. I shouldn’t have, but it happened. And… well, Mildred… She just… she told me she’d forgive me in time, and that was it. Whenever I tried to talk to her about it, she would just cling to that and I… I thought if I just gave her a little push and we put it all out in the open, then…” he trailed off, looking helpless. But Peter, remembering his best friend spewing abuse at his father, wasn’t very inclined to grant him mercy.

“So you put a spell on the whole town. Makes sense.”

“No – no! I – I asked for help – the old stories, you know, the ones my Gran used to tell me when I was a kid – and so – he said – he said it might have consequences, but that a little chaos never hurt anyone, and I really believed it wouldn’t be much –“

And then something happened.

Peter knew Dev as well as a man could know another – and he stopped and blinked and slightly raised his hand as if he wanted to rub his forehead but _didn’t_ –

Something was going on, if he wasn’t mistaken, if he wasn’t reading into things –

No; it _wasn’t_ Peter’s imagination; Dev _had_ gone pale. “Chaos? Mr. Fairchild; _who did you summon_?”

Peter had no idea how he guessed he’d summoned anyone.

“I – I – I mean – he’s so well-known. And everything turns out well in the stories, doesn’t it?”

“Mr. Fairchild; this is real life. So I ask you once more – _who_?”

At first, he didn’t reply, but then, so very quietly, he replied, “Robin Goodfellow.”

That was one person Peter had firmly believed actually belonged to the realm of fairy tales.

“Peter, charge him. Mr. Fairchild is going to spend quite a bit of time in a cell, working through his feelings” Dev said, sounding rather more hectic than usual. He fished a hex bag put of his pocket. “We can take him to headquarters with this –“

“Why the haste, son?” DI Thursday demanded.

He looked at them with eyes that were haunted, dimmed, and Peter suddenly felt a deep sense of foreboding.

“I just – remembered. I had forgotten. Been made to forget, I suspect.”

Peter wanted to scream. How dare someone affect Dev’s memories again, he was going to rip them apart with his bare hands –

DI Thursday’s expression suggested he felt the same.

Dev, though, didn’t appear angry, though. No, this was different…

“There is something” he said, and it sounded like a confession, “That I need you both to see.”

**Six months ago**

_The filing system, Joan decided on her very first day on duty at headquarters, was by no means bad – and she hadn’t expected it to be; no brother of hers could be incompetent, after all – but there was definitely room for improvement._

_And so, she set about to make it more efficient and therefore easier to find information if the need arose._

_The other members of the Guard mostly seemed to stay politely distant, which was only natural; she was the only sister of the Captain, and Dad had soon taught her that it put rather a lot of people off to learn who she was related to._

_She didn’t mind. If this was the price she had to pay in order to have Dev back in her life, quite frankly, she was coming away cheap._

_It was, as she would later learn characteristically, Lieutenant Ford who was the first to come into her new office as she had just finished the concept for the new filing system. “Hello, Miss Thursday.”_

_“Joan’s quite enough.”_

_“Sally it is, then. Do you have everything you need?”_

_She could easily have attributed this question to her trying to suck up to Dev; but she had a feeling that Sally was genuinely trying to be helpful, and anyway, Dev had called her one of his best officers. “Yes, thank you. I am just trying to modernize the archive a bit; make it easier to find things, you know.”_

_“Oh yes”. She smiled. “I guess you could say all of us are much more men and women of action than accountants.”_

_“That’s why you have me for.”_

_“You used to work in a bank, if I am correct?”_

_Of course she knew. Joan was ready to bet that any member who had known about the spell – and that number was probably close to all of them – had learned whatever they could about Dev’s family. “Yes. They actually wanted to keep me, but…” she trailed off, unsure whether already to disclose to someone she had barely seen more than a handful of times that she just needed to be closer to her brother._

_But she just smiled again. “Of course. It’s only too understandable. The Captain has always spoken with great affection of all of you.”_

_“We lost a lot of time.” It escaped her before she could help it._

_“Yes, but you still have years before you to make up for it, hopefully”._

_“Hopefully” she echoed._

* * *

_Of course she went to get Dev when it was time for lunch._

_He was studying some sort of map with Peter Jakes, and looked surprised for a moment at seeing her, then remembered._

_Her heart constricted, but she forced herself to smile. They just had to get used to being a family again, that was all. “Hey Dev. Thought I’d make sure you ate your sandwich.”_

_“Of course. I can finish up here” Jakes immediately offered, clearly intent on helping them spend time together._

_“I really could –“_

_“Endeavour, we both know what will happen if your mother learns you postponed your lunch.”_

_“And she would” Joan piped up._

_Dev sighed. “Is that what I can expect from now on? You all ganging up on me?” But there was an easy smile as he said it._

* * *

_“I hope everyone’s been nice?” he asked once they were seated in the pub._

_Joan rolled her eyes. “Relax, everyone has been lovely. I think they’re terrified of saying or doing anything that might displease me. Apparently, I am related to someone important or something, I don’t know.”_

_“Well, I am technically their boss, that’s true. But I can’t say I have ever had any big disciplinary problems. They are very conscientious.”_

_“Probably comes from having hand-picked them.”_

_“Some were suggested to me by the Council.”_

_“The Chairman, you mean.”_

_His smile was answer enough._

_She hesitated, then pressed on. “Dev – what is he?”_

_“I don’t know, and I doubt the other members of the Council do”._

_“Isn’t that – I don’t know – dangerous?”_

_“He’s done great work for the creatures of Britain, London and Oxford especially.”_

_Still, she had to know. “Dev – do you trust him?”_

_“Trust?” His smile turned loop-sided. “That would be a funny way to describe it. I respect him, his experience, his advice. I believe he usually does what he thinks is for the best in any given situation. And I accept his… position. But_ trust _? I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”_

_“Because… well, I feel like there’s so much about your life that I don’t know about, and I want to learn it all.”_

_He reached out and took her hand. “You will, Joanie. All of you will. I promise. There is no point on holding anything back or keeping anything secret.”_

_No. Not after fifteen years. She squeezed his hand. “I believe you”._

_He beamed._

* * *

_“Tell me everything! How do the headquarters look?”_

_Naturally Sam would place another long-distance call after her first day of work._

_“Probably not as magical as you expect it to” she admitted, “But imposing enough. And Dev has a big office…”_

_He demanded to hear everything, as she would have if she had been in his position._

_Sam was still desperately waiting to get home. Thankfully, a few connections Dev had built up over the years had made his discharge rather easy, although Joan still wondered when he had had contact with the normal, human army._

_“I can’t wait to see Dev.” Belatedly, he realized how this sounded. “And the rest of you, of course.”_

_“Sam, it’s probably the only situation I can think of where this reaction is appropriate.”_

_Unexpectedly, her brother laughed._

_“What –“_

_“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Dev, haven’t you? That sounded just like him.”_

_“Worse things to sound like” she told him._

_“True. Is Dev already home?”_

_She heard the door that very second. “Sounds like it. Dev? Sam’s on the phone!”_

_He didn’t even take the time to take off his coat and all but wrung the piece out of her hands. “Hey Sammy.”_

_She grinned._


	20. Through The Forest Have I Gone

Peter went to book Fairchild, and Fred followed Dev into his office. Their boy appeared agitated, and dear Lord, did he have a reason, since someone had been tempering with his memories _again_. Fred, however, swallowed his anger for the time being. His son needed him. “Dev, what –“

“A minute, Dad. I need Peter to see this too”.

“See what –“

And he was utterly lost as Dev opened a drawer and pulled out a very small sphere made of glass.

“What is that?”

“A memory storage device. Highly volatile – it only works if they person saving the memory is rather powerful, and only for a short time. That’s why we sadly can’t use them in our investigations. But for what I have in mind…” He closed his fist around the sphere as well as his eyes and mumbled a few words.

When he opened both again, the sphere was glowing gold. “It worked.”

“Dev…”

“When Peter arrives, please, Dad” he begged.

Peter come back rather quickly, proving he too had been worried. “Dev –“

“I didn’t remember, otherwise I would have told you, I swear” he rushed out, holding out the sphere. “About two years ago… I met Robin Goodfellow.”

“What!? But this means…” he took a deep breath. “Dev, what is it?”

So he had noticed too that Dev was too high strung, even for these circumstances.

The smile he gave them did nothing to reassure Fred. “Let’s just say… it was far from my proudest moment.” He very carefully closed Peter’s hand around the sphere, then took it for a moment. “When you see… try to forgive me. If you can.”

* * *

To say that Peter was troubled as he was walking towards one of their storage rooms with DI Thursday would have been a colossal understatement. What could Dev possibly imagine he couldn’t forgive him for? Especially since he hadn’t been able to remember until now?

“What do you make of all this?” DI Thursday interrupted his thoughts.

“I have no idea” He answered honestly.

“So how does this work, then?”

“We break the sphere on the floor; we’ll then be seeing Dev’s memory, albeit not form his head, but from an outside perspective. I guess he filled this with his memory of meeting Robin Goodfellow, but other than that…”

“I see”.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

“This normally is completely harmless, but should you at any point start to feel uneasy, please let me know.”

DI Thursday nodded.

Peter took a deep breath and smashed the sphere.

* * *

They were standing on a darks street, watching Dev slink home with his shoulders hunched.

“Two years” Peter said quietly. “That means it must have been –“

“Shortly after I dragged him back” DI Thursday breathed.

It had been the one time Peter had well and truly been afraid that Dev might leave him behind.

And dear God, he had forgotten quite how bad he’d looked during the worst times. DI Thursday’s sharp intake of breath told him he’d noticed it too.

Suddenly, he became aware of a surge of magic nearby; and it wasn’t difficult to see that Dev felt it, as well. His shoulders straightened as his eyes cleared; and anything personal was forgotten as he became the Captain, ready to deal with whatever life threw at him.

They followed him to a nearby park; and even Peter, with all of his experience, couldn’t have predicted what he found there.

It was autumn; that much was clear; he could taste it in the air, feel it in the declining hours of the night; and yet there were flowers blooming, the grass was as green as a children’s painting, and birds were signing after the sun had gone down.

And there, right in the middle of it, was a man, looking like anyone Peter might have passed on the street, smiling and mumbling to himself as he made another patch of stale earth lush and green.

And more than that – Peter recognized the words.

_“I am that merry wanderer of the night._

_I jest to Oberon and make him smile_

_When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,_

_Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:_

_And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,_

_In very likeness of a roasted crab,_

_And when she drinks, against her lips I bob_

_And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale._

_The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,_

_Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;_

_Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,_

_And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;_

_And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,_

_And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear_

_A merrier hour was never wasted there.”_

That was Robin Goodfellow alright.

Dev, at least, seemed to be as surprised as they were –

Well, as Peter was.

DI Thursday was a little preoccupied. “That was one of Joanie’s favourites, growing up” he said quietly. “Don’t know how often he read it to her and Sam.”

Dev was approaching the figure now. “My lord”.

“If you recognized me, then you know I am very pointedly _not_ the lord” he replied cheerfully.

“Nothing wrong with being polite” Dev replied evenly.

“If you say so” he said carelessly, concentrating on another tree, making it both bloom and wear fruit on the same time “Mr. Thursday.”

Dev flinched. “It’s Captain, actually. Captain Mo-“

“Oh please, let’s not pretend. If you confer with spirits and sprites like me, you learn to see reality for what it is. And you are a Thursday through and through, aren’t you? Copper like your dad, magical or not, as intent on helping others as your mum, every friend you’ve ever made has just been a substitute for your siblings.”

Now Dev seemed not only disconcerted, but slightly angry, and Peter knew from experience that didn’t bode well. “Your point?” he asked quietly, too quietly.

“Just that – reality, Mr. Thursday. Ah well – nothing wrong with changing it up a bit now and then, though” he said happily, and a sparrow swept past them and into the night, singing brightly.

Dev sighed. “Mr. Goodfellow –“

“Ah, I was wondering if you truly understood who I am.”

“Mr. Goodfellow” he tried again, “It is October, and we can hardly expect people to comprehend why suddenly this park seems blessed with a perpetual spring –“

“Oh, but they’ll love it. Who likes autumn anyway? Everything decaying, everything dying. There has to be constancy. There has to be things you can rely on.”

And Dev, who had lost everything he could rely on soon after he turned eighteen, would have sympathized, Peter well knew.

“Not that you have much experience with those, have you, Mr. Morse?”

After calling him by his real name, it sounded, and must have felt, like an insult.

Dev had indeed grown pale. “Whatever my experiences, it doesn’t matter” he said, his voice sharp and clear, “There is a right and a wrong. And I must very politely ask you, Mr. Goodfellow, to stop this and let things take their natural cause.”

“Or what? You’ll go crying to the Chairman? He has no power over me. Anyone who had is long gone.”

“Mr. Goodfellow” And now there could be no mistaking it; Dev sounded dangerous, ready to strike, every inch the captain of the Guard. “You may not think much of us mortals – as a matter of fact, you like to play around with us, don’t you – but I assure you – we have our own methods. And I have dealt with a lot of magical crisis over the years.”

“Every one except your own, I hear.”

“Mr. Goodfellow, may I suggest that this isn’t exactly the best way to proceed?”

“You know, if I was easily impressed, I actually might be – and that is no small feat. I didn’t expect you to be so interesting” he thought for a moment, then his face lit up. “As a matter of fact, you are one of the funnier mortals I have ever come across, and why not do a good deed for once – yes, it would be quite the thing…”

“Mr. Goodfellow –“

“Say the word, Mr. Thursday. Say the word, and five minutes from now, you could be reunited with your family, no one the wiser. No one would remember those awfully long fifteen years, you wouldn’t either. Just you, the Thursday’s oldest, their pride and joy, as you were meant to be. And all for free.”

And it was then that Peter understood why Dev had believed he needed forgiveness as soon as he’d remembered.

For a moment, just for a moment, his whole face lit up with hope, with longing; he looked just like he had the moment he had realized his mother well and truly remembered who he was.

He _wanted_ to say the word. He wanted to give in.

And then his brain set in, his experience told him there was always a price to pay, and he began to bargain. “So you say no one would remember, not even me.”

“No one. I can promise you that.”

Dev swallowed.

“Back with your family. Back to where you belong. You can walk right up to your house the second you say so, knock and they’ll let you in. Maybe your siblings will beg you to play the piano; or your mum will insist you have a good meal; or you and your dad will have one of your late-night chats…”

“How do you know all of that?”

“Grave sir, hail! I come to answer thy best pleasure” he said, grinning.

They weren’t even his lines, thought Peter, but if anyone would steal them…

“I know things many don’t, Mr. Thursday. Now, what do you say? Let’s do it.”

“But why would you –“

“Oh, I get bored easily, and there’s nothing wrong with a little chaos, when all is said and done” he said happily.

Dev swallowed, and the struggle on his face was almost too much to bear. He could return home; he could get his family back; he could have everything he ever wanted in just a few more moments…

But then he once more remembered who he was, and what he was, and he asked, “What about the Guard?”

And then, more quietly, “What about Peter?”

He snorted. “The Guard? Please, do you really think the Chairman couldn’t have found someone else to do his bidding?”

That might even have been true; but it was in the next moment that he ruined his own gig.

“And Peter Jakes? That lost puppy following you around, screaming _Save me_ with his eyes? What’s he good for anyways?”

 _Done it now_ , Peter thought. He didn’t know many things for sure; but he was aware that he trusted Dev, and Dev trusted him; and that were one of them would go, the other would follow.

And he knew immediately what his answer would have been.

So he was not in the least bit surprised when Dev’s eyes hardened and he stood up straight. “Thank you for your offer, but I will have to decline it.”

“One man? For one man, you would give it all up?”

“No; you just reminded me of everything I have achieved. For the likes of you, a decade might not be long, but for us humans… so much of what ad who I am was only made possible by the spell you would undo. And what about the cases I have solved, the people I have helped? I _can’t_ say yes.”

“You will regret this, _Mr. Morse_ – and I mean this as a fact, not as a threat.”

“Of course I am going to regret it” he said, honestly. “I am going to regret this as soon as I leave. But that’s how it has to be. Magic demands sacrifices.”

“And this is yours?”

“It’s just one of mine” he shrugged. “Now, please put the park back in order.”

“Fine” he huffed. “But remember you said no.”

“I will, Mr. Goodfellow. For years to come.”

And Dev waited for him to snap his fingers, restore the park to what it had been and leave, before he turned around, regret already showing on his face.

Goodfellow, however, called out to him. “Ah, Mr. Thursday, I can’t do this to you. Even _I_ feel moved. Don’t worry, you’ll only remember this when you need to.”

And he snapped his fingers again.


	21. But Miserable Most To Love Unloved

The memory ended. DI Thursday wiped his forehead. “Good Lord.”

That, Peter decided, was probably the best response he could have come up with.

“I never thought I’d say this, but thank God for that fellow’s memory magic; he would have thought that you’d hate him for even considering it.”

Exactly, because that was just how Dev was, deep down. Nothing if not self-sacrificial. Peter sighed. “We should get back to him”.

Really, Peter thought, it was just the sort of thing that Dev would make a lot out of, while it didn’t mean anything to Peter himself.

Anyone would have been tempted. Hell, if anyone had offered him the opportunity to change his life, give him a better childhood, would he have been able to resist? He couldn’t say, but the thought of leaving Dev all alone during his darkest time…

“So Mr. Fairchild summoned Robin Goodfellow, and now he is apparently running amok” DI Thursday said, probably – judging from his clenched hands – to distract himself. “Not exactly a textbook case, is it.”

It wasn’t, but then they hardly ever had textbook cases. That was magic for you.

* * *

Even though Dev was sitting down when they entered his office, Peter was ready to bet that he had spent much of the time pacing around.

Peter wasted no time; in a few quick strides, he’d crossed the room and grasped his shoulder tightly. “No one could hate you for this. _No one_.”

“But I almost –“

“Peter’s right, son. Anyone would have been tempted” DI Thursday said, echoing Peter’s thoughts exactly. “If he ever came to me…” he trailed off. The implication was clear.

“And for what it’s worth” Peter said firmly, “Didn’t seem to me like he was all that truly intent on helping.”

“No, of course not” Dev replied. “Even if it was kind of him in his own way not to let me remember. Pu – Robin Goodfellow is not the type to help. You heard him – he likes to create chaos. And me staying with –“ He glanced at DI Thursday and Peter suddenly wished he wasn’t in the room. They probably needed some father-son time. “Me staying with my family, it would have caused so many riffles. I don’t claim no one else could have built up the Guard but –“

“Not such a good job” Peter immediately interrupted him; he couldn’t help it. To think that Dev thought he’d hate him for such a simple thing…

He smiled. “If you say so. But still… So many things would have changed. And with magic trying to repair reality… God alone knows what could have happened.”

“But it didn’t” DI Thursday said, “Because of you, son. Remember that.”

Always ready to make sure his children were geeing better.

“It was really the only thing I could do, Dad.”

Far from it. Very far from it. But good luck convincing Dev of that.

“So we have to figure out how to deal with a Trickster God.”

“We managed with Mnemosyne.”

“You did, Peter, but somehow I doubt it’s going to be as easy as using the Lance on him. Trickster Gods are much more less straight-forward than others. Lethe and Mnemosyne in many ways felt like they had to confront us; he could just evade us for years if he wanted to.”

“While the city is going down” DI Thursday mumbled. “We can’t let that happen.”

“No we can’t” Dev said, getting up and buttoning his jacket. “We need a plan.”

* * *

The plan, as it turned out, soon became one to police the city as best as they could, since there was a possibility that Robin Goodfellow might eventually pip up to see his handiwork up close. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was the best they could do; and after a phone call to Superintendent Bright, Fred could positively declare that the police would do everything they could to help.

God knew that otherwise, Dev and Peter would probably have patrolled the streets until they collapsed.

* * *

Per sheer coincidence – he had been checking out a lead that proved to lead to nothing – Dev was the first one home that evening, knowing fully well that at the very least, Peter would have given him a disapproving look, if Joanie wouldn’t hope to be faster, if he’d insisted on staying, and the weeks that would follow would be hard on them all; he might as well relax when he had the chance.

Mum was busy of course, already preparing dinner. She hurried to greet him, however. “Oh Dev! So glad to see you could make it on time!”

He hugged her. “Hey, Mum.”

He wondered if he should tell her; he wondered if Dad would. But wouldn’t it hurt her, to know he could have returned much sooner but had chosen not to?

Just as Goodfellow had predicted, he felt utterly certain that he would have regretted his decision; so much so that he might eventually have given in and sought him out.

Really, he’d done him a favour by making him forget – the first time in his in life something like this had worked in his favour, he thought with a sarcastic smile.

He fact that it had been Robin Goodfellow who had made the offer had helped him to decline it, back then – like Peter had pointed out, Dev had not been sure that he had been serious at the time, or that he even had that much power anymore.

After all, every God had to be believed in, and he doubted many did, in his case…

“You seem preoccupied, dear”.

Of course she would notice

“Just the case” he sighed.

“I’m sure you’ll soon find a solution” she said gently.

He decided against telling her, if only for a purely selfish reason. For so long, Mum had been the epitome of home in his mind; and while he had never truly been for the hat stand rule and what it had made of his family while they were under the spell, she didn’t have to know everything.

Eventually, he would regret this decision, too, but he had no way of knowing that as he went about to set the table and wait for the others to join them.

**Three years and eight months ago**

_Alright. He could do this._

_He was about to see Mum again for the first time in fifteen years. She’d probably try to get him into the house as she had done with all of Dad’s bagmen, but there was no reason for him to enter. He could be polite but distant._

_He could be, because he had to be._

_What he hadn’t been prepared for – what he had never even considered a possibility (it was his own fault; whenever he thought of his siblings, he still imagined the children he had left behind) was Joanie opening the door._

_He remembered her crying once because a boy in kindergarten had told her she’d grow up ugly and him comforting her that that wouldn’t happen._

_He’d been right. She was exceedingly pretty, downright beautiful; and with a jolt, he realized he wouldn’t have known her, had he passed her on the street._

_But there was that old playful twinkle in her eyes, the one she’d never quite lost, not even when she had been in trouble._

_It hurt when he realized why she was studying him with such interest, what she was thinking, and he had to swallow._

_If it had been Mum, he thought he might have withstood; but he couldn’t say No to_ Joanie _._

I taught her her letters. She took her first steps while holding my hand. I used to do magic tricks for her when she was feeling down or unwell.

_Oh, God._

_It didn’t help much when he met Sam and realized he must have shot up like a weed sometimes during his puberty, or that Mum wanted him to call her by his first name._

_Suddenly, he realized he didn’t know if he could do this._

But the Chairman asked you to. You can’t just bail, you know that.

_He soldiered on._

* * *

_He had known – believed – that the worst lay behind him. Now that he had seen his entire family without any recognition in their eyes, what else was there that could break his heart?_

_Perter had been shooting him worried glances all day, but had finally been forced to go home since Dev had pointedly kept busy with paperwork he ostensibly wanted to finish._

_In reality, he wasn’t ready to talk to his best friend yet. Later tonight, when all they had was tea and shadows to cling to, as in the years past._

_And then suddenly, him believing that everyone, including Peter, had gone home, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder._

_He looked up – he’d been so focused on the file, had been_ forcing _himself to focus as much on the file, that he had never heard them coming and – and –_

 _“Dev._ What in God’s name is going on, Dev? _”_

 _Oh God._ Anything _but that. But he couldn’t let him know, could he – it would only hurt him to learn that he’d forget again… “Hey, Dad” he said quietly._

_“Dev, what happened!? I was just siting down and I saw the light from your desk and thought Morse is staying late and I wanted to send you home and when I saw you hunched over like you used to with your homework…”_

_“It’s a spell, Dad” he said quickly, like ripping off a band aid. “I was targeted by the –“_

_“You know what, you can save your explanation for when we’re home –“_

_Only that Dad happened to be an excellent policeman, and suddenly his eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, why did you say it_ is _a spell? It’s over and done with now, isn’t it?”_

_“Look, Dad, this is really complicated, so how about you go first and I finish up here and –“_

_“You can’t be serious! Mum’ll be eager to see you, and I can’t even imagine what Joanie and Sam will say –“_

_Another paused. Then, “There’s something you’re not telling me.”_

_“No, no, there’s nothing, only I really should finish up –“_

_“No you shouldn’t. I don’t care how much time has passed; I know the boy we raised. Why don’t you want to go home, son?”_

_His resolve broke at that word, and he told him the truth._

_Dad let himself sink into a nearby chair. “Bloody hell.”_

_It was. It had been for fifteen years._

_“And there’s nothing we can do?”_

_“Nothing anyone has found until, now” Dev explained tiredly, rubbing his face with his hand, feeling utterly spent and numb. Later, there would be pain, as he well knew; but later wasn’t now, and now he had to deal with what was right in front of him. “And believe me, a lot of people have tried.”_

_“What if you stay around? At home? Certainly if we keep remembering –“_

_“Doesn’t work. I tried it when it first happened, when I was eighteen –“_

_“Eighteen” mumbled Dad, looking worse than Dev had ever seen him. “You’d just finished school. You were going to study at college”._

_He could have told him that he had, but what would be the point? It would just fade away again, like every time. It was utterly hopeless._

_Then he realized his thoughts for what they were –_ giving up _– and finally started to feel something else than numbness, if only panic at the prospect of turning into a monster with cold eyes, like Octavia Stevens. “I –“_

_“Son, there has to be a way. I know there has to be”._

_“I’m trying, Dad. I’m trying.”_

_“I know that, of course I know that”. Dad got up. “But still – maybe if we pit our heads together…”_

_No; he couldn’t take it anymore. Before Dad could move closer, Dev fished the hex bag he kept for emergencies out of his pocket._

_“I am sorry” he told him before igniting it and throwing it against the wall, all but jumping through the door that appeared for a moment._

* * *

_Peter didn’t even ask. He just put the kettle on._

_The next morning, Dad had forgotten everything, and the pain hit, but Dev told himself that now, surely_ now _, the worst had passed._

_Until Dad remembered around midday and made a scene that, thankfully, in the evening no one but Peter and Dev remembered._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah when you torture your favourite character again.


	22. Here, Villain; Drawn And Ready

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for action!

The following weeks proved just as harrowing as Fred, during a late-night chat in their bedroom, had feared. Sometimes, it felt like Win hardly saw her family anymore; the children (and Peter) where working almost non-stop, may it be that Joan and Sam were collecting the data about the fights and whatnot that kept happening across the city, while Dev and Peter were patrolling Oxford, often coming home just to collapse – she’d found both of them slumped down on the sofa on more than one occasion already. Fred was hardly doing better, trying to help the Guard at all times. 

This had to stop.

If only she had known what to do; but all she was capable of was making sure that they at least ate regularly, and came home now and then.

Today, she was slowly walking towards the Temple, having decided she might as well pray to the gods. Granted, she hadn’t really much experience in such matters, but the Temple was open for all, and the priests already knew her – once again, as mother of the Captain, that was apparently to be expected.

And so, she sat down in a pew and quietly prayed, for help, or for things to change, she didn’t quite know.

 _If I accepted Mr. Badcodger's offer_ , she suddenly thought, _Dev might not be working so hard, this might not be his duties..._ It was far from the first time the thought had come to her mind.

And then his call reached her.

* * *

Dev was sure that at this point, he was running mostly on adrenaline, and that eventually, things would become to much, but he couldn’t let it show. He wasn’t just any officer; he was the Captain, and as such he had to be visible, to be seen doing his job, to be _competent_ , even if he felt anything but, these days.

He wished Peter could have stretched himself a little less thin, but well knew that any remark of his would have met a pot-kettle argument, so he refrained from any.

Something had to be done, someone had to act, but he didn’t know how or who.

And then a Thursday afternoon unlike any other happened.

“Sir?” It was Sally who had knocked on his door and thankfully failed to mention the fact that by this point, he had been all but dozing off at his desk. “There are new reports.”

There always were, these days.

“Only this seems strange. According to several people who could feel it and called in, there is a bout of magic building up around Cutteslowe Park…”

That was troubling news. Too much magic was never a good thing.

“I’ll check it out” he decided, getting up.

He got Peter and regretted it immediately when it became clear his second-in-command had used the calm before the storm to take a kip at his desk too, but there was little sense in trying to persuade him to get some more rest. Plus, he was wide awake the second he mentioned the surge of magic anyway.

* * *

Fred was just talking to Trewlove about a recent break-in when Strange got the call about another brawl. “Call the Guard, let’s see who’s available”. He would have called Dev personally, but these days their oldest was invariably busy, as they all were, if was being honest, and there was every chance he was currently checking out another lead.

As it turned out, he was correct, but Sally Ford was there and quickly promised assistance.

* * *

“Do you think” Peter began as soon as they were in the car, “That this could have to do with the cause – with Robin Goodfellow?”

“They talked about it being around the park, so there is every chance.”

“And what do we do then?”

That, Dev reflected, was an excellent question, and one he would have been much more comfortable with if he had known the answer.

* * *

This, Fred decided, was ridiculous. He was, as Win kept reminding him, not getting any younger, and he certainly wasn’t supposed to be breaking up fights between about thirty people anymore; and yet here he was. What could he do? They needed more people as it was.

And so, he quickly brought down a man with a well-placed kick, then turned around and punched one who’d ben advancing towards him in the face. “Oh no you don’t” he muttered, only to be grabbed by someone from behind.

He’d survived a war, he suddenly thought when he felt a knife being pressed against his ribs, he’d be damned if he went down in _Oxford_ of all places. He wasn’t going to do this to his family, by God he wasn’t –

The knife was pressed a little closer and he tried to wriggle out of the chokehold. “Police” he wheezed oust.

“Well, a copper. Guess it’s my lucky day” someone snarled and Fred became very aware that he was about to –

And then bother the pressure of the knife against his back and against his throat ceased abruptly.

When he reeled around, he found his would-be attacker on the floor and –

None other than the Chairman standing over him, a look of fury that was almost terrible to behold on his face.

His eyes were all-white; he was holding the knife; and he was hissing at the man in a language Fred didn’t recognize.

And, with startling clarity, he knew that if he didn’t interfere, the man was dead.

“Chairman!”

Nothing.

The knife was advancing towards the figure who apparently couldn’t move in a slow, calculating manner, and he realized this was how someone like the Chairman killed – languidly, so the victim could feel, see and hear everything.

And he couldn’t allow this. He was a police officer, he’d sworn an oath, and he couldn’t allow this.

He looked around, the fight seemed to be getting under control of the Guard and the police, even if no one noticed the Chairman. He must have been working some magic of his own.

He grabbed an arm that was like steel and was easily shaken off. “Chairman!”

No reaction.

Then, he used the last resort.

“Mr. Stevens!”

The Chairman stopped. Blinked. Looked at Fred. And, cool as a cucumber, said, “Good Day, Inspector.”

He needed to get him out of here, and fast. He had no idea how long whatever magic was working to hide him from anyone but Fred’s view would last; and the Chairman was an important… man who couldn’t be suddenly brought under scrutiny, Dev had made that clear.

Fred was still surprised when he allowed himself to be dragged away.

And then he understood.

The Chairman _was being affected but aware enough to try and mitigate the consequences_.

He almost cursed. God alone knew what he would do if things got bad.

For now, he managed to get him to a quiet, empty street; at least it would only hit Fred himself.

* * *

Dev stiffened as soon as they got out of the car. “he’s here.”

“You’re sure?”

He nodded towards the park, where even from the distance, they could see that all trees were blooming at once. “I know the style.”

“Alright then. Clear the park?”

Dev nodded.

Turned out, most people had already got out when they felt the surge, so they only had to tell a few of the stragglers to leave, and then they were alone.

Or not.

Because Dev took a deep breath, then called out, “This has gone on long enough, Mr. Goodfellow, wouldn’t you say so?”

* * *

Alright. What did Fred know about calming down –

Well –

Trouble was he didn’t even know _what_ the Chairman was, so the first question was mute.

So he tried a different route, one he usually used on himself, and had regrettably done so on – well, _Morse_ when he had been nothing but Morse.

“Get yourself together, man” he snapped. “We can’t afford this.”

The Chairman blinked, then hissed, “Do you even know how many more memories I have? You humans don’t understand what it means to be around for so long –“

“Why’d you leave your office then in the first place?”

In fact, Fred didn’t think he’d seen him outside apart from charity functions or the occasional dinner invitation since the spell had been lifted.

“I – I wanted to see –“ He glared at him, and Fred wondered idly why he wasn’t more impressed. “At least I’m looking for him, instead of picking battles I’d lose!”

Oh. That was why he wasn’t scared.

He was _angry_. Angrier than he had been in a long time, and that was saying something. “So I’m supposed to run around Oxford with my demon eyes out, only taking down dangerous people when they’re about to cut someone down?”

A part of him, his sensible part that, sadly, wasn’t calling the shots at the moment, pointed out that it might not be a good idea to further enrage the Chairman.

Naturally, he didn’t listen.

* * *

The man who stepped out from behind a tree looked exactly like the one Peter had seen in Dev’s memory. “Ah. Captain Thursday. And this is Commander Jakes, I believe?” he tilted his head to the side and studied him. “If I judge the captain correctly, and he has told you everything, please know that I didn’t mean it personal in any way. I just wanted to have a little bit of fun.”

“Like you’re having fun with Oxford right now?” Dev challenged him. “Everyone is discontented, everyone is fighting, and you’re having _fun_?”

Peter well knew that it was the exhaustion as well as the frustration that had led him to snap, but Goodfellow just laughed, then started dancing around – circling them really. “ _A merrier hour was never wasted there_. You have to admit that some of it is quite amusing.”

“End it, Mr. Goodfellow, or we’ll end it for you.”

“Oh? And how, pray, are you going to do that?” he asked.

Again, it was probably a proof of Dev simply having enough, but he all but exploded (having inherited a bit of a temper from his father, although he normally hid it). “Do you really think that I can’t move against you? I am the Captain of the Guard! I survived being under a spell put on me by the Army of Morality for fifteen years. I got saved after having been targeted by Mnemosyne. Do you really think I’m jus going to stand here and let you destroy the city?”

“Thing is, I can’t tell if you’re just being annoying or if there’s a little touch of the good old hubris going on” Goodfellow declares happily. “So you think you can impress me just by huffing and puffing and blowing up?”

“Others have tried to cross me before, and I’m the one still standing” Dev said coldly.

“Ah. Now, that is true. However…” he pursed his lips in a way Peter just knew was designed to irritate them. “Now, first of all, I don’t think we can use spectators, can you?”

Peter didn’t realize until he snapped his fingers and he found himself back at headquarters, in his office, apparently locked in, and unable to make himself heard.

* * *

"You can't just - you can't just stand here and _give in_ , man! You should be stronger than that!"

The Chairman shot him a dirty look. Fred wondered if he should slap the man, but that would probably lead to… complications.

He wished Dev were here. Certainly he’d be able to calm him down… “Maybe we should get to headquarters” he suggested, hoping that their boy had already returned, or that at least Peter was…

“No!”

The Chairman was lining against the wall, his face pale. He mumbled something under his breath that Fred needed a moment to get.

“I don’t want _him_ to see me like this”.

Alright. There was more at stake here than pride though, so he tried, “And what if –“

“Inspector, I am currently trying very hard not to rip out your throat but you’re making it difficult”.

* * *

Really, she would later think, it wasn’t a proper call. No, that would have implied that she actually heard something, but she didn’t.

Instead it was more a… feeling.

A conviction.

One minute, she was praying for help, and in the next she knew with absolute and complete certainty that she needed to get back to her boy.

She needed to find Endeavour.

There was still no one around, but what did it matter?

She hurried out of the Temple.

_Endeavour, I’m coming._


	23. Why Art Thou Here

“Peter! No! What did you – “ Dev broke off and took a deep breath. “I swear, if you’ve hurt him, I will – “

“Oh relax, Captain, the Commander’s in his office. Invisible and unable to make himself heard for now, but perfectly safe, I assure you. After all, I have my experiences with not treating him as is his due.”

Dev ignored the sarcasm in his voice. He took a dep breath and concentrated on the magic he knew so well.

It certainly felt as if peter was alright, although they were too wide apart to communicate. But it was _something_. “Well then, Mr. Goodfellow, I think –“

“No, you know what? This isn’t enough fun.”

Another snap, and Peter was back.

A demonstration of power, Dev realized. That was all it had been. And yet, hating himself for taking the bait, but having to ask, he turned to him. “Are you alright?”

He nodded. “Yes, don’t worry”. He grimaced. “Rather not repeat the experience, though.”

“You and me both.”

Goodfellow sighed. “You two are no fun. Fine, so let’s talk about what to do…”

* * *

“I don’t think ripping my throat open will do anything to solve this situation” Fred somehow managed to reply.

Unexpectedly, still shaking, the Chairman laughed. “This sounded like something your son would say.”

It would have reassured Fred if he hadn’t spat out the words _your son_ like that. “Well, one of us should think like him, wouldn’t you say?”

For a moment, he believed he would strike him. Then, the Chairman slumped back against the wall. “I am not used to not being in control” he admitted flatly.

Neither was Fred, when you thought about it, but that wasn’t important right now. “Is there anyway we can make this pass faster?”

After all, Superintendent Bright’s affliction hadn’t lasted long, and he’d managed to calm Dev down as well…

“I don’t think the way to let off steam these humans just used – force – would be a good thing. Not if you actually want to return home tonight” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Then talk” he challenged him, feeling his own fury rise again – the one thing that kept him back was the fact that the Chairman could indeed easily kill him.

After all, what did he have to complain about? He’d seen Dev grow up – he’d – he’d

“My kind is not exactly known for their sharing, Inspector –“

“Fine. I’ll start”.

If they could talk their way through this, then perhaps...

“A part of me hates you. A part of me will _always_ hate you.”

“Of you really think this will calm either of us down –“

“And you want to know why?” he pressed on. “Because you got to watch Endeavour grow into the man he is now. I lost a boy, and who returned to me was the Captain of the Guard – and I can’t say I’m not proud – God knows I am, but we deserved these years together as father and son. Instead, it was you who he turned to when he needed help, who consoled him, who gave him guidance. And it should have been me. _It should have been_. And I know I’m not to blame, but that doesn’t change a thing – I will carry this guilt around with me until I breathe my last. And you – how can I _not_ sometimes want to punch you? You got what should have been our years.”

He stopped realizing his mind had somewhat cleared.

He hadn’t even known he felt that way – well, not consciously.

“I nursed him once”.

“What!?” he asked, rather surprised at this non-sequitur.

“I nursed him once” the Chairman repeated, sounding much smaller than usual. “During his studies in London – he fell ill. Didn’t take proper care of himself.”

Wasn’t that a familiar tune.

“I – he was feverish – delirious. He didn’t and to this day doesn’t know I was even there. He kept calling for his mother, for you. He called me Dad once. I left before he could regain his senses, sent a nurse.”

Fred wondered how this could in any way lead to such violent emotions as he’d been seeing on his face –

“The truth is, Inspector, that… I never meant this to happen, but your son has become _kin_ to me. And we don’t mean this lightly.”

All these times Dev had confided in Fred that he believed the Chairman considered him nothing but a useful tool, clever as he may have been.

“That’s why you were looking for him” he realized “And why you helped me.”

“Your son loves you very much, Inspector – all of you. Any harm to you would mean harm to him, and _I cannot allow that to happen_.”

They stared at one another, the effect of whatever magic having used finally passing.

The Chairman stood up and straightened his clothes. “I have to apologise; it seems that you were right after all.”

“It’s no –“

“Inspector Thursday?” It was Sally Ford who stumbled upon them, taking it all in but thankfully too clever to say anything. “Chainman?”

“Lieutenant Fiord” he said evenly, once more the complete master of himself “I was looking for rtghe Captain and happened to meet DI Thursday. Could you tell us –“

A look Fred definitely didn’t care for crossed her face. “I’m sorry but they went to check out a surge of magic near Cutteslowe Park, and now it has been brought to my attention that no one can come closer than fifty feet to the door of said park…”

Oh God.

* * *

“It seems” Goodfellow announced “We are at a stalemate here”.

And Dev had an epiphany. “No. No we aren’t.”

“Ahm, Dev, not that I want to correct or anything but it does seem rather like –“

“Peter, don’t you see?” he turned to his second-in-command. “He already demonstrated his powers by sending you to your office and bringing you back. He could have moved against us the second we arrived – or by the time we did, he could already have committed a massacre. Instead he allowed us to get everyone out”. He looked at Goodfellow again. “You wanted us to find you. You want this to stop too. Mr. Fairchild didn’t know what he was doing, and now everything is out of control.”

“I thought he was supposed to enjoy that” Peter growled.

“Not to this extent. Remember, at the end, order prevails. Even if the shadows have offended, am I not right, Mr. Goodfellow?”

He smiled a triumphant and slightly crazed smile. “You deserve your reputation, Captain Thursday.”

“So, how do we stop this?”

“See, that’s where it gets complicated.” He sighed.” You know magic. When it comes to something this big, and this out of control… There’s always a trick, a payment, a… sacrifice required if you will.”

Something in him clenched at the word _sacrifice_. “And how big a sacrifice would that have to be?”

“I am afraid that things have indeed rather escalated. It would have to be something you value greatly, something it would be a big struggle to give up.”

“So something like… our positions?” Peter asked. “is that it?”

Of course he automatically included himself in the group who was going to make the sacrifice, although Dev had no intention of letting this happen. He was his superior officer – it was his duty to save Oxford if he could.

“Oh no, that’s much too little.”

And Dev thought of magic and ancient stories and pain and quietly asked, “A life?”

It was always something like this, wasn’t it? Something dramatic, something tragic…

“Well, let me put it like this” Goodfellow skipped over to a flower and made it bloom. “Have you ever heard the German expression Jein?”

“No.”

“It means both _yes_ and _no_.”

“So what are you saying?”

He looked him right into his eyes, and everything mischievous or prankish fell away. Here was an old spirit, powerful and regal. “What do you value the most, Endeavour Thursday?”

A shiver ran down his spine. “My family” he admitted quietly.

“You can’t take them away from him again!” Peter protested. “Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

“I wish it were that easy, Commander” Goodfellow told him, almost gently. “But the sacrifice needs to be bigger.”

“What apart from his actual life can you take that –“

“Endeavour Thursday” Goodfellow announced and actually looked like he meant it as he continued, “I am sorry. But a big enough sacrifice to fix things would mean that you have to become Endeavour Morse once and for all, in you heart and mind, to your family and to the world, with no chance of ever returning to your true self.”

* * *

“What do you mean, we can’t get through?” Fred all but shouted. “Someone ought to know some magic around here!”

“I am sorry, Inspector, but you know I can’t do anything” the Chairman said, looking the closest to frustrated and sick with worry than Fred had ever seen him.

“But there has to be something –“

“We’re working on it, I promise” Lieutenant Ford said.

It was all he could cling to.

* * *

“But – but – _no_! Take me instead! I’ll sacrifice anything you want me to –“

“And what do you value, Peter Jakes? What would be a bigger sacrifice than your Captain himself?”

He opened and closed his mouth when he realized it was the truth.

Oh how Dev pitied him. “Peter, it’s –“

“If you say it’s alright, _I swear to God_ –“

“Now, but even if you acquiesce, it might not be enough. The spell’s grown to strong. If we could have a bigger sacrifice –“

“You just said it” Peter said, looking pale. “If I let this happen, it will be the biggest sacrifice I could make. And I – I am ready to – I’m ready to let me be the one who remembers. I’ll be the only one who ever remembers.” He looked at him with desperate eyes. “And there is no other way?”

“No” he told them, and Dev knew he was telling the truth, for no other reason than the honest pity he was expressing.

It was the last thing he wanted to do. The very last thing. But the city would tear itself eventually if this didn’t stop.

He took a deep breath and made a choice. “Peter” he said, turning to his best friends for just a few more minutes. “Lead the Guard. Protect the city. And – “ he swallowed. “Remember me how I was.”

“Dev…”

“We don’t have time, Peter. The city and the people don’t have time.” He smiled, knowing it would look faint and ill. “And hey, at least you get to order Morse around again.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier, and you know it”.

A long paise in which both of them thought about the many adventures they had shared.

“Well then. The end of it all.”

“No” Peter said. “Morse is going to need friends, isn’t he? He was a little sad, if I remember correctly.”

Morse like bloody miserable, but he couldn’t do it to Peter to correct him.

“So I can see if I can’t be his friend.”

“I think” he replied, his smile more genuine, “Morse’d like that.”

Peter pulled him into a hug. “Would it be selfish of me to admit that, with everything I ever lived through, this is still one of the worst days of my life?”

“Only if it is selfish of me to be somewhat glad that it is” Dev Thursday replied, shortly before he was to make a sacrifice and die, in a way.

_Don’t think of it. It makes it worse, when you think about it._

But he had to think of them, as his family, for one last time. If only to say goodbye.

_Dad… I will miss our talks, even if I won’t know it. Joanie… I’m sorry we never made it to the opera. Sam… You’ll be amazing at whatever you do once everything changes, I know it._

Mum.

_Mum…_

There were tears in their eyes when he and Peter finally pulled back.

Dev took a deep breath. _Say the word. Make the sacrifice. Save the city._

And then, suddenly, someone ran up to them.

“Endeavour!”

He could only stare. “ _Mum_!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two self-sacrificial idiots, bless their hearts.


	24. By The Triple Hecate's Team

Before any of them could react, Goodfellow declared, “Ah. The next act unfolds.”

Dev was utterly baffled by the question how and why Mum had made it to this place. “Mum –“

But she had already inserted herself between him and the trickster. “Mr. Badcodger. I am not a surprised as I probably should be.” She frowned. “How did I even get here?”

Guessing immediately that it had to do with him, and despite it being rather undignified, he had to snort. “Hardly a clever alias, Mr. Goodfellow.”

“I never said anything about being particularly creative”.

He had to concede the point.

“What’s going on, Dev?” she wanted to know. “I just – I felt where I had to do, and that you needed me –“

“He’s going to sacrifice himself, Win!” Peter burst out, perhaps rather listening to his feelings on the matter than any reasoning as to how they should deal with this crisis. “He’s going to become _Morse_ again!”

He would probably have phrased it differently.

Mum turned to him. “Endeavour?”

“It’s the only way, Mum. A great sacrifice. And – well – it’s me.”

“Why does it have to be you? Why does it _always_ have to be you?”

“Interesting question that, Mrs. Thursday. Rather a bit of a martyr, isn’t he –“

“Couldn’t you just –“ Peter began, but he laughed.

Almost forgot. Seems like we don’t need your input anymore, Commander.”

“I swear to God –“

He snapped his fingers and Peter disappeared again.

“What have you done –“

“He’s safe, Mum, at least I think so.”

“Thank God for that”. And then, to his utter surprise, she rounded in on Goodfellow. “What is this about anyone having to make a sacrifice? Tell me!”

Dev tried to intervene, but he did.

She turned to him. “You can’t. You _can’t_.”

“Mum, I know – I don’t – it’s the last thing I want. God knows. But we have to get this under control.”

“But why do we have to lose you again? Is there truly no other way?”

“Mum, no, the sacrifice…”

“The sacrifice…” She suddenly studied Goodfellow. “Why do I know you by another name, Mr. Goodfellow?”

“Oh, Mrs. Thursday, I like to play tricks on people, your son can explain that to you.”

“But still –“ she looked at Dev. “They normally have reasons for it, or haven’t they?”

He could only nod still at a loss. He was used to himself and perhaps Dad putting themselves in harm’s way, and of course Peter always followed him to the frontlines; but Mum had never really been in any danger so far. “Mum, could you perhaps –“

“No, Dev. I won’t stand idly by and let this happen. We have to think. Let me tell you something…”

And he listened as she explained Badcodger’s – Goodfellow’s – offer, how she had struggled. For a moment, nothing but fury blinded him so much that he could barely think; but then he realized what Mum already had – there must be a reason. And Goodfellow wanted this to stop; otherwise, why would they be here?

“So” he said, his eyes slowly travelling towards Goodfellow, who seemed to have lost all interest in them and was happily skipping around to the birds singing “He made sure to meet you after this had all started,. And he knew who you were.”

“At the time I didn’t think about it” se said softly, “Most people I meet during my charity work know that.”

It had perhaps been inevitable as soon as the spell was lifted that the magical community learned all there was to know about his family.

“And he made you the same offer…” Dev trailed off for a moment, swallowed.

She took his hand. “What is it, dear?”

It felt as if he was three years old again and had dropped a cup by accident.

He did the same as he would have then. He confessed, told her all about their first meeting.

“Oh sweetheart…” she brushed a lock off his forehead. “You had no other choice.”

“I know, Mum” he choked out “But I wanted to return to you so badly…”

“And you did. You mad it. And you’re not leaving again.”

“But – but the city – I can’t –“

“You’re not alone in this, Endeavour. You never have been. And even though Peter’s not here right now, I can guess what he’s thinking of it all.”

“He knows our duty as well as I do” he said quietly. “And – he would have made a sacrifice too, by making me go.” He quickly realized what he had said and corrected himself. “I mean, he will make –“

“Neither of you are making _any_ sacrifice, Endeavour.”

“Mum” he pleaded, wondering why Goodfellow had been so cruel as to lead her here. Certainly, even not being human, he must know how much more difficult it was for him with his _mother_ here – the symbol of the home he was leaving behind forever?

“None of us had any say about losing you the first time” she said quietly. “But I am here now, and I won’t do it. I won’t let you go.”

“But Mum –“

“I know it’s selfish, Endeavour, but I just _can’t_.”

Despite living with her through the war – despite all these years she had raised him, him, the child of another woman and the man she had married – Dev had never truly understood the depth of her love for him. “Mum” he sounded teary, weary, like a child, not like the Captain, not like the Captain at all, and he had to be –

_He had to be –_

“Endeavour” she said, cradling his face in her hands ever so gently, as she had the day he had returned to them, “You are my boy. I watched you leave, that day when you were eighteen. I never told you that.”

“I didn’t turn around” he admitted quietly, looking down. “It haunted me, later.”

“I know you didn’t look back, but I didn’t turn away until you were out of my sight. It was as if part me knew, knew I wouldn’t be able to hold you for so long…”

“Mum –“

“Mr. Goodfellow?” she called out.

“Yes?” He all but danced over to them, but Mum’s eyes never left Dev’s face.

“I know why he brought me here, why he sought me out in the first place. It’s very easy when you think about it.” Her thumbs were stroking his face. “He’s offered me those fifteen years back, Endeavour, my Endeavour, and I want nothing more than to take them. Since the day I remembered, there’s nothing I’ve longed for more. We’ve been given so much, but I still want it all. I want to have baked a cake for your twentieth birthday; I want to have watched Joan and Sam tease you about your first serious girlfriend at college; I want to have seen you in your uniform as you fulfilled your dreams to follow in your father’s footsteps.” She was crying now, and he wasn’t surprised to feel tears run down his own cheeks as well. “I’ve just realized – he sent me the dreams, you know. Dreams of what could have been. Good _and_ bad.”

“Ah, you figured that out too –“

“But despite my wishes, despite just wanting to say yes and every consequence be damned” she continued, shocking Dev, “I can’t. I need to watch that boy leave on that bright morning, and I need to let him go. I’ll always love him, but I cannot allow myself to love him more than the son in front of me.” She dropped her hands to take both of his, and only then did she finally look at Goodfellow. “Endeavour is my son, completely and utterly. He always has been. And I hereby give up any right to even ask for those years. Fifteen years, from a mother’s heart. You cannot tell me that any sacrifice they could make would be bigger than that.”

“Indeed I cannot” he replied, smiling widely. “And as long as the magic accepts your sacrifice –“

There was a humming sound that slowly became louder.

“Ah, it seems it does. Don’t worry; You should be fine. Your son is more than talented enough to ensure neither of you come to harm in the next few minutes. I do hope I will see you again, Win; you know, you underestimate yourself. He didn’t get it all from his father or the Chairman.”

“If you say so” she said frostily, but he still snatched her hand to gallantly kiss it before disappearing with a wink.

“What – ” she began when Dev pulled her into a hug.

“It’s like he said, Mum – the world’s basically resetting a little. Nothing I can’t shield us from. Just don’t look up. We’ll –“

“Keep each other safe” she finished for him, their old saying from the war comforting as always.

Even then, she’d felt stronger with her boy in her arms.

There was something that felt like a storm out of leaves and blooms going on around them, if she was correct, but not a single one of them touched them, as mother and son held onto one another.

* * *

Fred hadn’t believed it could get any worse when Peter had shown up at the perimeter they’d sat up around the park and told them that Win was in there, too.

His wife and their oldest at the mercy of a trickster God. What was he supposed to do?

And then the wind started blowing inside, but not outside the park. “What –“

“The magic!” The Chairman exclaimed. “It’s unravelling! I can feel it! He did it!”

Peter’s face grew white as he grabbed Fred’s arm. “Who’s Dev?”

“What do you mean, Sergeant?” he barked. “He’s my son, and –“

His shoulders slumped in relief. “Oh, _thank God_.”

“What –“

As abruptly as the commotion had begun, it ended, and then Win and Dev were walking towards them, arm in arm.

He, Peter and – to the obvious surprise of the others – the Chairman rushed towards them.

“Win! Dev!”

“It’s over, Dad. Everything’s been fixed. Oxford should go back to normal –“

Ge didn’t really listen as he pilled both of them into a hug.

Peter grasped Dev’s shoulder. “God, Dev, that was close.”

He absent-mindedly reminded himself to ask later.

“Yes, but everything worked out – Mum saved the day, really. “

“Oh, I just did what anyone would have done”.

That was his Win.

As soon as he let go, Dev – he had clearly been crying, they both had – cleared his throat and stepped up to the Chairman, the Captain once more. “I’ll get you a full report as soon as possible, sir –“

“There is no need for haste, kállirgh” he said (at least that was what it sounded like), stunning everyone but Fred. He actually reached out and very carefully grabbed his wrist. “You should go home, get some rest.”

Peter’s mouth actually fell open.

“I –“ Dev clearly didn’t quite know what to make of this open show of concern, but decided it was best to go along with it. “Thank you, sir.”

The Chairman nodded, letting go off his wrist. “I will repair to my office. Lieutenant Ford, would you be so kind as to drive me?”

It quickly became clear that the reason why he hadn’t asked Peter was that Peter was going home with them, partly on Win’s insistence and partly because – well, it seemed like the thing to do right now.

It was Haddon who drove.

“What exactly happened back there?” he asked as soon as they were in the car.

Dev moved to answer, but Win laid a hand on his arm. “I believe, Fred” she said slowly,” That’s between me and our son. We managed to undue the magic; that’s all.”

She sounded like the day she had when she had told him they had to get married so she could look after the child.

He knew then that she was right, and swore himself never to ask again.

They spent the rest of the drive mostly in a comfortable silence, Dev and Peter eventually dozing off, the former with his head on Win’s shoulder.

She looked as if she had never been entrusted with something more precious in her life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure: I always intended for Win to save the day this time around, just tried not to make it too obvious from the start. Also, yes, this chapter's title is still a line from A Midomer Night's Dream - and when I read it, I just couldn't resist.


	25. And Robin Shall Restore Amends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my friends, here we are at the last chapter. Enjoy!

The next morning, Fred found Dev in the kitchen, the first one up and already fully dressed, bent over a few papers while tea was making itself on the stove. He was too used to the later to pay much attention to it.

“Good morning, son.”

“Morning, Dad” he replied without looking up. Something important, then.

“What is it?” he asked, grabbing the newspaper.

He looked up, frowning. “Not really; it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me” he strongly hinted that he wanted to know more.

“Really, it’s – it’s about the founding for magical homeless shelters, that’s all, the Chairman just sent it to me. But there’s this, too.”

He handed him a handwritten note. Reading it, Fred had to hide a smile. Small wonder it was confusing their lad.

_Saobhe kàllirgh,_

_I trust this missive finds you well and that your experiences from yesterday have not proven too taxing on you, the Commander or Mrs. Thursday (whom I hereby send compliments)._

_It is my firm opinion that you, as they say, should take it easy for a few days._

_Gellirgh y matach,_

_Chairman S._

“I didn’t even know the first letter of his last name until just now.”

Fred, who fully well knew how he was called, said nothing, judging that the Chairman should decide when to divulge that information; he owed the man that much.

“I am sure it’s just a fluke; maybe from Mr. Goodfellow’s magic. It won’t happen again” Dev continued.

Silently, Fred disagreed. _It will, son. And you want to know why? Well, Mum and I ask you how are doing every morning, don’t we? It’s the same thing._

“There don’t seem to be any problems demanding my immediate attention, though” Dev said, standing up. “We might as well start with breakfast.”

Win and the others came down soon afterwards, as always hugging Dev tightly.

* * *

That day at lunchtime, Mum came to him to eat with him in the pub. She’d grown into the habit of doing so for a while, and normally, these days, they asked Joan and Sam to accompany them, but today they wanted to be alone.

George was of course glad to see them.

“So this is what it feels like to be at the centre of one of your cases” Mum eventually said when they’d sat down.

“More or less” he shrugged, “to be honest, every crisis is different.”

He expected her to say something like I _just wish you didn’t have to do it, dear,_ but instead, she smiled at him proudly. “And you’ve weathered all of them so far.”

“We do our best – and of course I have a great team.”

She nodded and they ordered their god. Afterwards, she asked, “What will happen to Robin Goodfellow now?”

“Oh, I suspect he’s out there, maybe playing a few pranks and perhaps even actually helping people. Trickster Gods are a bit unpredictable, I’m afraid. To the end, I wasn’t entirely sure if he _actually_ wanted things to stop or not.”

“I was. As soon as I understood why he had brought me there. Is that strange?”

“No; actually, when someone targets someone else specifically with magic, it’s not difficult at all to achieve something like that. But then, all magic is fickle, complicated. Maybe he just met you by accident and saw a chance. We’ll never know.”

Win had her own theories, but really, it didn’t really matter anymore, did it; what was important was that they had won – well, at least they had managed to undo the magic and that things were returning to normal.

Even if normal had stopped being normal quite some time ago, but Win wouldn’t have it any other way.

“The others resorted to drawing straws today to who gets to drive you home” he told her and she laughed.

“Well, I can always use a chauffeur, if people seem to like it so much. Although I highly doubt they’d gladly drive any older lady around.”

“You’re not old” her dutiful son immediately responded.

* * *

Yes, she thought that afternoon as Sally once more drove her home, she _did_ know. Robin Goodfellow had sought her out.

She remembered his eyes when she had told him that Endeavour was hers. He hadn’t been certain how far she would go.

Creatures, Dev had told them once, simply didn’t _feel_ like humans.

_He never had a mother. That’s why he sent me these dreams, to ensure I would be scared for my son. He doesn’t understand that deep down, being a mother means always being a little scared._

“Mrs. Thursday?” Sally suddenly began.

“Yes?”

“I – that is – I mean – we just want you to know that, what you did there, standing with the Captain – It was very brave.”

She looked out the window and smiled. “No. It wasn’t really brave at all – It was all I could do.”

_All I have ever done._

“Still, Mrs. Thursday” she insisted. “We can’t tell you how thankful we are.”

And she realized that they knew. May it be because Dev had written a report, or because of something magical, much more difficult to define, but they knew.

“It was all I could do” she repeated. “I have loved him since the day he was born, and I won’t stop any time soon.”

She was well aware that they knew he wasn’t her biological son, but no member of the Guard had ever alluded to it in front of her, nor, she was ready to believe, each other.

Sally smiled.

* * *

The next few days were downright cathartic, if you asked Win. No immediate magical crisis, no pressing cases, just her boys and girls going to work and coming home and her doing her charity work.

“Oh, Mrs. Thursday” Mrs. Preisler told her one day, “Do you remember Mr. Badcodger?”

“Rather well” she answered because it was the truth.

“Seems like he’s moved on. I’ haven’t seen him in a week or two.”

Maybe, she thought, that was for the best.

And yet she didn’t bother to try and hide her smile when she came home later and her petunias were blooming like they never had before.

 _Sorry, Mr. Goodfellow, but I am_ very _happily married_ , she thought. _Not to mention a mother of three. Still, thank you._

She could have sworn she heard faint laughter.

* * *

Dev was playing Strauß with Sam happily turning the pages for him and Fred having a pipe when she heard the doorbell ring out; Joan moved before she could say anything.

“What is it, dear?” she asked when her daughter came into the kitchen with an open envelope.

“Cards for the opera – Madame Butterfly too –“

One of Dev’s absolute favourites.

“And look at that! That’s the best seats, and no accompanying letter or anything. Think it’s a trap?”

I was an honest question, considering Dev’s position, but Win thought of a certain someone reaching out to grab his wrist with an expression she knew only too well and guessed the truth. “I don’t” she told her simply. “Let me guess, five tickets? No wait” she corrected herself, remembering Peter telling her what Dev was about to do just in time, “Six”.

“You’re right”. Joan tilted her head to the side and studied her. “Mum, what happened that day in the park?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, dear. We just held on to one another.”

_While I was letting him go._

_It’ll make sense to you one day, Joanie._

* * *

That weekend, miraculously none of those dear to hear was called in on a case. “Hey, Mum. Want some help?” Dev asked as he watched her make lunch.

“Yes, thank you”.

He smiled and moved to peel the potatoes. He could have done it with magic of course, but he’d always been opposed to “Frivolous” use of it – apart from entertaining his siblings, but that was apparently a different matter altogether.

“The city is well and truly back at peace” he told her.

“Thank God for that.”

He laughed.” Don’t say that too loud; Goodfellow might take credit.”

“It sounds like something he’d do” she agreed. She studied him, feeling herself beginning to soften. “I was so scared” she admitted.

“I would never have allowed you to –“

“Of losing you, Dev.”

“I was scared of losing you all again, too” he said quietly. “But Peter would have had the burden of knowing”.

Poor Peter. Win by now knew him well enough to be aware that there had been some calculation on his part when he’d told her about the sacrifice, but that didn’t change the blind panic he must have felt at the prospect of losing his best friend. “How is he doing?”

If she knew her boys, and she did, they had already been in contact.

“Well, thank you.”

“You really have to ignite him to dinner.”

“I will” he promised to her delight.

“Hey Mum, hey Dev – need any help?” Joan asked, happily skipping into the kitchen.

Sometimes Win still wondered how they could not have felt his absence starkly over the years, but then she told herself that dwelling on the past wouldn’t change it, and that she had fully known that when he had made her decision, a decision she would make again in a heartbeat if she had to.

“Hi guys” Sam piped up.

Really, before Dev had returned to them, both of her younger children had sometimes shown tendencies to spend rather little of their free time at home, but that had all changed the second they remembered. Now, when they went out, they invariably tried to drag him with them.

And a good idea it was, too. Win might have been proud of them, but she didn’t want them to overwork themselves.

They were currently mock-fighting over who would undoubtedly peel the most potatoes, and she let them. It was just a bit of good fun anyway.

* * *

She stepped out into the garden for a breath of fresh air.

The flowers were starting to bloom; and, having now lived with magic long enough to know that some things just couldn’t be helped, she wasn’t surprised to see that her roses promised to have a wonderful year.

She leaned down and gently touched one of the first blooms. “Thank you” she said quietly, absolutely sure that the message would reach who it needed to. After all, she hadn’t yet properly shown her gratitude, even if it had been harrowing and a rather dangerous path to choose. “He would have made the sacrifice, they both would have, I know it. We would - _I_ would have lost him for good. And you knew that. That’s why you sent me the dreams, why you chose me. And you _did_ , didn’t you? It wasn’t a… whim as Dev said it might be. You definitely chose to help. I can’t say I am much in favour of your methods, Mr. Goodfellow, but still; thank you.”

She could have sworn the blooms shook ever so slightly, as if the flowers were laughing – and oh yes, this time, she definitely heard someone express their mirth.

Well, let him have his fun. It hadn’t been his fault after all, and he’d managed to deal with it, even if he had done so in his own peculiar way.

The wind was warm and promised a very pleasant afternoon. Win took a deep breath and in the moments that followed she thought of many things, but mostly…

Win thought of a little boy clinging to her in London. She thought of a teenager proudly playing a new etude for her and his baby sister. She thought of an eighteen-year-old leaving the house for an afternoon in the city.

And then she thought of a young man, who was brave and friendly and wise, who would sacrifice himself without a second thought to save others; and who, despite having been separated from them for years, still loved them as much as he had when he had been taken from them.

She smiled and returned to her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I actually had this idea quite some time ago, but spent a bit of time setting this whole story up by showing across the other instalments that Win sometimes still thought of Dev as the boy she lost, rather than the man he is now so her sacrifice would mean something. I just felt I couldn't simply throw that out there without some preparations.   
> 2\. Win for the win. Lol.   
> 3\. Really hope you enjoyed this, and that you have a very nice day!


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